The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-10-18
BY JOAN HEATH

The door slammed with a vicious bang behind Roy's back. The jar- ring sound brought to him a reali- zation of the sudden transition from one phase of his life to a new and suddenly appalling one. He had left his wifel The fiery tide of anger which had 'surged during the past few hectic minutes was not perceptibly cooled by the coldly bracing air as he strode res- olutely away down Faircrest drive .. away forever, he determined, from the home that he and Joyce had, unbelievably enough, settled down in a short year ago with such assured expectations of permanent bliss.
 At the corner of his block he halted. Should he continue to the suburban station and catch a train back to the city where he could engage a hotel room for the night? Or should he turn to the night, to George Dibble's place? He decided upon Georges.
 George was an old pal of his. Perhaps George and Ellen might put him up for the night. George and he could ride the 8:10 down town in the morning as usual. He'd show Joyce that a man could stand just so much and no more!
 Roy was ordinarily a peaceable, garden variety sort of suburban husband, but 8 series of trivial ar- guments between him and Joyce lately had gotten under his skin.
 Of course, any passably experi- enced benedict could have explained that it was an integrad part of the business of becoming adjusted to married life. Unfortunately, no one had.
 The spark that had ignited the fires of Roy's wrath had been inno- cent enough in itself merely Joyce's penchant for cats. Roy hated acts, loathed felines of any sort!
 When the first furry intruder made its appearance into his home he had eyed it askance and kept silent. He ventured no comment when the second cat dropped seem- ingly from a clear sky into an es- tablished place in his home.
 Tonight he had come home to find 8 third and unbearable cat calmly seated in his favorable chair, scratchingly and mewingly defying dispossession. The memory of the subsequent verbal pitched battle caused tremors of wrath to run anew up and down his back.
 And what had been Joyce's Par thian shot as he stormed out of the house? eff you go, please don't bother coming back!" Well, he wouldn't, not for $1,000,000!
 Almost from force of long habit he turned his steps into the trim drive leading to the neat pseudo Swiss chalet which housed the Dib- bles. With his hand on the wrought iron door knocker he paused.
 A loud crash from within star tied him. Then he distinguished the sound of high heels clacking swiftly toward the front door and receding up the stairway to the upper floor. A furious feminine voice reached his ears.
 George Dibble, I've stood all I can of your untidy habits! I work like slave to keep your home a fit place in which to live and what thanks do get for it?"
 That stridently upbraiding voice was Ellen's, surely! Roy's hand in- voluntarily fell away from the knocker in surprise.
 Well" he mentally noted, "and l always thought that they were an ideal couple!" He glanced at his watch 8:30. T8here would be half hours wait for the next city-bound train.
 He thought that perhaps Duane Trent would be home. Walking the short block to Granville street and turning the corner, he found at the Trents' home. He was admitted in answer to his ring, none too cordially. AS the three sat together in the living room Roy sensed something amiss.
 Duane left after 8 few minutes strained conversation to mix some highballs. Roy noted with some that Jeans eyes were sus-