The Waterbury Democrat., 1933-06-10

dered, his face grim in the fre- light.
 ssWhat anyone could say" he began menacingly. about Mon- ica O'Dare-"
 voice sirupy. "oniy that she is sured sur r him. I.f soniy aaI; Una that she s has has that family of hers to drag around after her. Monnie's the flower of the flock. That horrid little snip, Kay, going around to luncheons and teas now and making notes she makes me laugh. Really she does with her airs. I juct don't see her most of the time just don't know she's around"
 "Well, I think that's darned dumb of you" Dan said roundly, impolitely. Rays g good kid and she works hard. She'll get somewhere, not like some of these people who hang around doing nothing"
 sandra strengthened. Mean ing whom?"
 Dan made an impatient move- ment. ''Oh, all that Hill crowd the Bliss girls, Geraldine, the whole lot of them. They make me tired. Who are they anyway? Their grandfathers worked in shirt sleeves when Monnie's grandfather was starting in law business with the Vickerys and Coreys."
 I've heard all that before." Sandra said on a note of pettish- ness. Then her demeanor changed, became gentler. Dan. don't let's quarrel about Monnie and her people. After all it's none of your affair what they do or what they have been. That's in Charles Eustace's book now. isn't it?"
 "So I hear" muttered Dan. true," the girl cried gaily. Charles saw her oGf. Everyone in town knew that. He sent her orchids, too. You know what it means when a man in this town sends girl or- chids.''
 Guess I do," Bitterly Dan was reflecting that he hadn't had the gumption ever to send Monnie flowers. Why hadn't he? He was quick enough to send them to the girls in his own crowd for any cas- ual reason. No. he hadn't valued Monnie enough = hadn't known her true meaning in his life until she had gone away. Almost he groaned aloud.
 What did you say. Dan'"
 He came alive. Nothing" he said. Nothing"
 Another sandwich. Dan?"
 "No, thanks. Got to be run ming along" He glanced at his watch. Good Lord. but it's late.
 Sandra had risen and now she slipped that cool, long fingered hand of hers over his big brown one. Her voice broke appeal ingly on the words she had to say to him. Dan. don't be mad at me, darlin', will you? I can't
 He said. "of course not. Why should I be?"
 He could see pearls of tears trembling on her long lashes. Funny he hadn't thought of Sam dra as the crying kind. She al- ways seemed so sure of herself. He was touched. Nice of her to care enough for that.
 ''It's just that like you so awfully and hate to see you hurt" Her pale, pointed face had a shade of wistfulness upon it.
 "Sure. know" Dan was embarrassed.
 T just wanted to tell you this. dear," said Sandra quite simply and without apparent self-con- sciousness. "If ever you feel you want to talk things over with any, one, why, I'm always around. Always friends. do you seer" She smiled up at him.
 "Of course. And thanks a lot" Dan wanted to get away and yet he was held. too, by some perverse charm in this girl.
 As he walked home through the crisp autumn night he tried to find his way back through the maze of words Safidra had used. Had she said Monnie's engage ment to Charles was definite Dan wasn't sure. But women always knew about things like that. It must be so.
 And sandra, disrobing in that (