Henderson daily dispatch. (Henderson, N.C.) 1914-1995, 1937-01-23
CHAPTER. 2

JANET PAINTER stood indie
cisively at the corner of Columbus
avenue and Seventy-third street
and gazed idly into the window of
the drug store. She pressed her
face to the glass to view the clock
on wall beyond. She saw that it
was only 10 minutes to 4 and
sighed.
"Oh, excuse me-" Janet moved
aside out Of the patch of sunlight
to make room for the baby car
riage another girl wheeled expert
ly into the advantageous spot.
Janet could see only the tip of an
infinitesimal nose above the blue
blanket. She smiled at the other
girl and walked on.
"Tll have plenty to do some
day." she said aloud and the course
of her thoughts ran on like the
stories she had woven as a child.
They formed a series of pictures
without plot. They embraced a
happy little house set in a SUM-
dappled lawn. Somewhere in that
house there was a small angel, an
exact replica of Joel. A car drove
into the driveway. A very smart,
very expensive car-since Janet
could never think of Joel without
thinking of the best, there was an
aura Of grandeur about Joel-and,
of course, Joel was at the wheel.
Get your hat, darling, and We'll
run down to the club for a swim
before dinner" She blew him a
kiss and said, ''Il be right with
you as soon as I speak to cook"
Oh, she would be busy enough
when that day came. She would
have no time then to walk to the
public library to kill an hour or
two.
She shifted the two heavy books
from one arm to the other. 1.-THE
Jacobean Era in. Furniture,
Tcherinova; my Twenty Years in
the Ballet" an autobiography.
Good, solid books to improve a
girls knowledge and while away
the long, lonely hours of the eve
ming. Not the exciting new books
that people were talking about but
good reading matter. You had to
leo to the circulating library for
the new books and the circulating
library ate up quarters when you
read book in an evening.
If I leave the books at the
I1o 70
and Seventy-second street, the
flower cart may still be there, she
thought. I'll buy little bunch
of daffodils and walk back by way
of the park. Then, I wouldn't be
back until 5 and Joel will be home
by then.
There was a small, discomforting
tug at her conscience. She felt
that she was a spendthrift of time
although time was the only thing
she had in quantity. She remem-
bered how she used to luxuriate in
her Sunday mornings. But then
she had been a working girl. Days
had been crowded and they passed
swiftly. Those were normal days
that began at and ended by mid
night.
Janet's day now began at noon
when she walked a little before
Joel so that she could prepare his
breakfast. Lunch was a word that
had disappeared from her lexicon
except when she had a luncheon
engagement with one of her work.
ing friends. Janet prolonged those
1uncheons as long as she could,
savoring the stimulating news and
small gossip Of the world she had
left behind her and came away
feeling a little lost at the prospect
of the long afternoon ahead of her.
On afternoons when Joel didn't
have matinee, he was doing the
rounds" of thg casting agencies,
anticipating the next move in the
uncertainties Of theater life.
She loved the hours from 5 to 8.
Those belonged to her. They be-
gan with her waiting for Joeps
step on the stair. Then a quick
glance to see if she looked fresh
and clean another. to note with
satisfaction that the room that
was their home was as nearly per-
feet as she could make it. There
would be teacups and thin bread
and-butter sandwiches on the. bas-
ket tray or, if it was a matinee
day, there would be the mixings