Imperial Valley press., 1937-07-18


Let me get home first, please
let me get home first" she said
to herself over and over, study
ing the traffic lights.
Don't get out" she burst
forth at her apartment house
door
wait, 1 have something for
you" He drew a large box from
the car pocket-much too large
for ring. He gave her the box,
pressed hard one small, brown
hand.
My love to Judith. Three
weeks. sweetheart"
A sheepish smile, and he was
gone.
Inside, Nancy tossed a light
greeting to the maid and dashed
to her bedroom. Her fingers
fumbled so at the ribbon she
could hardly open the package.
At length she tore away the pa
per and disclosed-a box of Suss-
kinds Sweetheart Chocolates!
Her own account.
And they say advertising
doesn't pay"
1T WAS a depressed and worried
little copywriter who opened
the door to Judith Brooke. Ju-
dith, schoolgirl friend of both
their mothers, had introduced
Saint to Nancy. She was very
smart, an incredible forty-five
with a girls zest for life.
"Oh, 1 had tea with st. Law
renee Vail. He sent his love-"
Nancy said over the coffee cups,
as she produced the chocolates.
Sweetheart chocolates from
Saint? How daring of him.
Heavens, he must have proposed
at last"
How did you know? But don't
tell anyone"
"Oh, Saint had bad shock
five years ago, when he was
twenty-five. Don't you remem-
ber? The tabloids were full Of it."
Judith paused to remember
Nancy five years ago-a gallant,
curly-headed little David, arriv-
ing at nineteen to take on the
Goliath of the metropolis.
"I don't read the tabloids."
well, 1 do, and so did Saint
in those days, 1 guess. 1t was
really awfully amusing. Young
st. Lawrence badly burned they
said. Chlorine sues st. Lawrence
Vail for breach of promise. Mil
lionaire clubman's letter read to
court. Saint never meant to
marry the girl, of course, but he
wrote her a very romantic let
ter, and a romantic jury gave her
fifty thousand. Poor Saint! He's
been telling me for years that
he'd never marry, but just lately
he's changed it. Says he'll never
get engaged. He wanted to marry
you right away, didn't he?"
But how could 1, Judith ?"
81 know, darling"
The maid, black and benevo-
lent, brought Nancy a box of
flowers. They were roses, long
stemmed, deep red ones. Nancy
searched in vain for a card.
Judith chuckled.
"St. Lawrence, once burned, re-
fuses to turn other side! He told
me once he would never give an
other girl grounds for breach of
promise. Tell me, did he ever
write you a letter."
Nancy thought, and flushed.
mo, he always wires, and
very formal kilograms at that. l
supposed it was because he's so
conventional, and I've always
signed mine love and kisses just
to tease him. Oh, l could die of
shame"
Don't be silly, child. He loves
you terribly, or he would never
have dared propose. l suppose he
meant to sweep you off your feet
and marry you at once. The poor
boy"
Nancy was still blushing.
"Of course he doesn't love me,
or he'd trust me more than that.
I won't ever marry him."
"Of course you will, little
idiot"
II won't. Well, anyway, won't
marry him unless he gives me
grounds for a breach Of promise
suit"
And that was the only conces-
sion that Judith Brooke could get
from her.
THE next day Nancy was still
angry and very hurt. And,
just as great actress draws on
her private grief to improve
new role, and a great singer al
ways sings better when her heart
is broken, Nancy, who was really
a good copywriter, brought her
secret sorrow to the Office.
Thnu ran q reM ad the neyt