The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-06-15

\ .- bedside when he wakened. He'd known her we'll before, he had been taken sick, but just now he couldn't quite remember her name. It would come to him after
 She kissed him and wept a lit- tie and this tired Michael. The nurse took her away, making soothing noises. After that he slept for long time and when he woke again there was a splash of rain against the windows and the room was cooler. It was, the nurse told him brightly. another day. Funny the way these days ran into one another, without movement or sound
 After a procession of such meaningless days, punctuated only by trays and pills and visits from tall, melancholy doctor with a gentle voice, and white-coated in- ternes who poked and prodded Michael and asked him questions, he was able to sit up. The dark girl Cher name was Sally Moon. 1t seemed) came often now. And there was an Englishman named Downrigg who made them move Michael from the ward to a private room. Michael couldn't quite un- dertsand why 1t mattercd or why Mir. Downrigg cared, but there 1t was. He was singularly apathetic about the whole business. The nurse said he was good patient. That meant he let everyone else do as he or she pleased, and kept si- lent.
 One day Downrigg came and they had long talk. Michael, dressed for the first time in his street clothes, was sitting in a comfortable chair out in the pa- vilion. Downrigg talked a lot about the estate (what estate? Mi- chael wanted to ask but didn't bother) and said there was a good deal of money tied up, although not, of course, as much as one would like. Death duties and so on, he had said portentiously. And Michael had wondered again idly what 1t was all about.
 You'll be sailing, I suppose, as soon as you are we'll" Down. rigg had said. "And after you're married.
 After he was married. The phrase, for an instant, stirred some memory in Michael, but 1t passed. It had been like . breeze passing over Q wheat field, ba,dto.. tAa ko1ko nult, fAN n v,a a.. ment. After he was married well, men married every day. This Sally-girl was solicitious. She kissed him when she came and went. It wasn't unpleasant. He ought to remember more about her, though. And couldn't.
 Downrigg went on. He was leaving for England on the mor- row, he said. They could find him in London. He left Michael his card. On this side, he said, the affairs were in the hands of Whitebread & Forrest in Wall street. He wrote the address down. Michael could draw on them.
 "That's nice." Michael said, l iOOhAHk uOWH 0t htS ONNhJ oddly helpless hands. once they had been brown ".
 | It was easier after that because he was stronger. Only there was sort of cloudiness at the back of his brain--not wholly dis agreeable, but rather worrying. If that cloudiness would lift. Michael felt, he could remember . great deal. He didn't tell the doctors this. He had never been iii in his life before and, for all he knew, this dizziness. this feeling of not being quite sure of oneself might be a part of convalescence.
 He satisfied Sally by being gen. tie and subdued and entirely tractable. He no longer frowned and urged delay when she spoke of their coming marriage, but let her have things her way.
 There was something familiar about the streets through which Sally and her father presently drove him. They expected him to smile in recognition. and so he did, because he didn't like to dis appoint them. They had been so