Henderson daily dispatch. (Henderson, N.C.) 1914-1995, 1936-08-24
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| announced, I'm Ieavin' now, Mrs.
Wilson," and CLOSED the sitting
room door behind her.
Her departure, and the ringing
of the bedroom telephone, gave
Gay a chance to escape. Back in
her own room, she felt physically
hurt and heart-sick.
Then she gathered her pride
about her and gave disdainful
shrug.
cts worth all the ugly things
they said about me, if I can really
help Tim and Miss Randolph. Even
if nobody ever knows the real
truth but Tim and me-"
Mid-afternoon, Gay deep in the
cushions Of a wing chair was
equally deep in the pages Of a
book. Now and then, sharp flash
of lightning would penetrate the
shadows of the room, and the
silence Of the library would be
broken by ominous thunder of an
approaching storm.
The room grew darker and dark
er-the lightning more and more
frequent and intense. Gay sprang
up, finally, and pressed an electric
button. All the lights in the room
flashed on. With a caught breath
of rapture, she looked at the books,
and books, and bools-the rich
wall carvings = the magnificent
painting over the fireplace. Then
she slipped back into the entranc-
ing world Of unreality on the
printed pages of the book she was
reading.
The telephone brr-rr-ed. Tim
was speaking.
Gay, you're not to worry.
We're all safe at the clubhouse.
It's raining here like the devil, and
a tree was struck out on the
course, right in front Of us, but
| The line went dead.
"Quite storm" Gay thought
placidly, and buried her nose in
her novel again.
The next breath, the terror
stricken voice of Celeste, calling,
Miss Elwell! Miss Elwell!" star
tied her out of her chair.
Here you are! I have been
looking everywhere for you, mann
selle!"
! Celeste, her arms filed with
Walls Of medicine, a hot water bot
tie, and small leather medicine
case, ran into the library, pouring
out an excited tumble of French
and broken English. mon Dieu-
how I am frightened. Mel go
with her, because Jenny she have
sent somewhere. I do not know
where, mails non! But vite,
ma mselle. Vite"
Gay inter rupte What's
wrong, Celeste? What's happened !?
Tell me! Is Mrs. Wilson ill?"
| Celeste, gasping, tried valiantly
to make Gay understand. "Oui,
Mrs. Wilson! Her heart-she is
dying, maybe! Before she stop
speaking she say. Get the injec-
ton think the doctor, he leave
it ready-for fear she-but oh.
ma'mselle, am afraid. I do not
know how to use! What can do I?
have such fear she is already
deadw
ooh no, Celeste! Don't say such
things! Send for Doctor WILSON,"
''The telephone will not work,
ma'mselle. The storm"
| To the end of her life, Gay never
could remember how she descended
to the pool with Celeste. She
could recall nothing that happened,
until she found herself standing
over Marian Wilson, who lay, a
crumpled heap in her orange bath
ing suit, at the edge Of the pool.
Her heavy black hair, freed from
the rubber cap, hung shining wet
about her face, which looked dead
white, rigid as marble. The AFRO
CANT red curve Of her lips had
changed to a piteous blue line.
Dead! The room, the pool, every
thing swan around Gay, and she
clutched for support at a nearby
chair. A sob rose Historically
She choked it back. She must
control herself. But fear made her
tremble violently She had had no
experience with illness: had never
seen death face to face.
II don't believe she's dead Help
me carry Ter to that settle. Easy.
Celeste! Now, give n'c-~-the aeedie-
Do you know how. much Of this
injection she should have?"
Ceiestc ss!2t4.' 3eccd NE j. know
nc.bing! rnl.' what she say
Cav sohhed silent prayer.