The Waterbury Democrat., 1934-03-03
Q Io33 NEA SeN;cs. lne.

would miss out on all the invita- tions she now accepted so eagerly. No one would remember her if she buried herself in some little house on side road.
 When Tom said something about trying to find a place on the Island she smiled and shook her head. Don't bother, darling. We'll be all right. I don't mind the city any more. Besides, everyone says were going to have cool summer."> The puzzled look came into his eyes again and he said no more. More often than not Gypsy en- countred Hunt Gibson at these | festivities. Hunt was very much the young-man-a -about-town at the | moment and he had met these peo- pie through Sue Canavan. The more Gypsy saw of him the better | she liked him. He was always so amusing. He had grand sense of humor. You saw him on the ave- nue these days, broad shoulders set off to advantage by his well fitting British clothes. He swung a stick. Girls riding on the tops of busses craned their necks to see him. "Oh,' they said. Isn't he like Gary Cooper?"
 He would offer, Gypsy q lift up- town as they left the Eighth street studio-Ronny's or Elspeth Harris place on Barrow street. Coming my way?' he would say. smiling.
 Gypsy would waver. "I was go- ing to stop at the French pastry shop on Sixth and get some bri- oche for breakfast" ,.,,..
 Well. come along. The taxi can wait, cant it?'
 It was fun: it was all fun. To play at being a girl again, to pretend for a little while there were no responsibilities, no worries. Of course you always went home to the baby and Tom with thank full feeling. It was wonderful, back of all this playing and laughing and chatting, to feel that your life was secure, settled. Just the same, the dash of freedom made Gypsy rounder, rosier, prettier than she had been in years.
 She looked about her at the peo- pie she knew, the completely un- fettered ones, and found that she ulu nOl envy luCHIs lIloPCth Wet' thin, haggard, nervous, at 29; in love with married man from Park avenue, Ronny had been mar ried and divorced and so had Villa Burns and one or two of the other girls. None of them had children. She would rush into the apartment after an afternoon punctuated by frenzied chatter, scented with cig- aret smoke and the dregs of cock tail shaker. She would bury her face in the pink warmth and sweet ness of Davids baby neck. "Was he good, Elsa?' "Oh, sure, he fine."' Elsa would wriggle out of her apron. "Take his carrot all right?' "Ya, he eat um all up." Well, now I've got to settle | down to business" She would hum a dance tune, looking abstractedly | into the icebox. Asparagus and | cold lamb and a salad; Tom would | like that She wasn't hungry. Those pate sandwiches had been so
 The door would slam. Tom would be in the doorway. Hello, dar- ling!"
 She would smile at him in the old welcoming way and he would fold her in his long arms.
 "Been painting the town again?'
 "Yes. Oh, I must tell you. Ronny | has the most marvellous idea ~ She would talk eagerly all through dinner and would not notice par ticularly if he were unresponsive. Don't you think so?" | 'Umm ." Tom would stare at her, that puzzled small-boy ex- pression on his face again. /" 'Fraid
 I didn't hear what you said, dar-
 ling"
 But all this did not dash her spirits as once it would have done. She would pat his shoulder gently.
 Poor Tommy, he was all tired out these nights from that hard old
 job!
 One night he slapped the news
 paper down beside her. It was
 folded neatly back to penciled item.
 What on earth?" Gypsy picked 1t up. stared at it.
 l She paled trifie. Almost 1t was like a bad omen. "Lila's got her
 divorce!"
 "Yep." Tom rubbed his forehead
 collectively. T wonder it lasted
 that long. He was good guy. too l "Oh, marvellous" Gypsy assented
 absently.
 ""What happened?"
 | "I don't ." she flushed over the words. .I don't know" ~
 "Well, l think it's a rotten dea, for Bliss anyway" Tom offered