The Waterbury Democrat., 1934-02-20

grammed handkerchief? She might fling that at him, watch him squirm, flo, wriggle out of it. An, but she wasn't going to ask-not now, at least.
 She was miserable in the days black jealousy hovered over all her things were as before. Tom had no more late nights at the office and when he was at home Gypsy was quiet, sweet, interested, apathetic. T think you ought to see the doc tor, honey" he told her more than once. 'I think you need tonic." She shook her head. She was all right, she told him. How explain that what she needed was the elixir of trust. the old, benignant medi- cine ofperfect love and understand ing? In April, one warm, delicious Saturday they drove over to Blue Hills. The baby was adorable in a pink sweater and silky cap. Gypsy had the new gray suit which Tom s commission had made possible. Her mother said gravely, Seems you've been doing too much, child. You look so thin and big eyed. Tom What does he think ?" Gypsy's kvoice in spite of herself, was sharp with suspicion.
 Don't be so touchy." soothed Mrs Morell. ''He thought a rest would do you good. A change |. after the long winer. You could stay here for a week or two. Clytie and I would take David off your hands. He's no trouble anyhow. Such good baby"
 So Tom wanted to get rid of her for a week, did he? Oh, no, she mustn't allow herself to think such thoughts. Her mind was sick, that was all; She was overtired and foolish. Maybe this brief separa- ton would be the best thing in the world for them both.
 When it came time for Tom to leave Sunday evening Gypsy clung to him fevedshly. "I think I'd bet ter go back with you, after all,' She said faintly. She was desper- ately afraid she was going to cry. r. "Nonesense," Tom said robustly. "You need change. I'll worry along. I'll telephone you every day."
 She watched him go with a dull pain in her heart. ..
 But later, as she picked up the threads of the old life again, she began to wonder what had both- cred her back in the city. Color flowed back into her cheeks and hope into her soul. She began to I In 1,nryn1f n11 nf hnr tortures had been self-inflicted "It's just that, I was so much alone and had so much to do," she as- sured herself. The rich, jumbled casual family life amused and bus jed her. She. worked Q little in the garden. She lunched and dined with old. friends, answering ques- tions about her husband with that serious young-matronly manner which well became her. At the end of seven days she was missing Ton terribly. over the telephone each morning he assured her that a soli- tary state was not one to be de- sired, no matter what snug bach elors told to the contrary.
 But on Saturday morning, foul or five hours before his expected arrival, Sue Canavan's young sister Katherine, tossed a bombshell into Gypsy's house of contentment.
 Saw that handsome husband O lyour lunching yesterday" she sait gayly. It seemed to Gypsy that th' glance Sue threw her was a warn ing one.
 Soh, did you?" asked Gypsy witt animation. Did you stop ant speak to him?"
 Katherine shrugged thin shou1. ders. "He was much too busy tc notice poor little me-" she mocked "He was all wrapped up in the girl with him-stunning looking crea- ture in black. Looked like Paris. '
 "He-he has all sorts of women clients for the various accounts, Gypsy said coldly and proudly. The old, desperate sickness was return ing. Yesterday-why. Tom had tele phoned her just at Il o'clock yes terday to say he was "up to his ears' in work. And she had be- lieved him.
 "Of course he has," Sue said quickly-too quickly. She changed the subject with her usual tact and they spoke of other things. But l dypSy lSiI IIlc hHilC tul ilH5 III hSi heart. This could not go on! It was Q situation beyond her control. It wounded her pride and dignity. When Tom came she would have to have it out with him.
 l After the girls had gone she l glanced over the morning news paper, seeking an escape from her 1 troubled thoughts. A name stood out from all the others in the col umn of personal notes in the so- ciety page.
 Miss Vera Gray of Boston is at the Weylin."
 Something clicked in her brain. Was this what she had been fear ing all the time? That girl-how she hated her! Gypsy stood up, her little hands clenched. David sat in his carriage in an angle of the house. Sun poured down on him, @ smiling, rosy scrap of babyhood. She stared at him, almost without seeing.
 She had been letting things drift. We'll, now there must be a show down! Tom would have to make his choice.
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