The Kennewick courier-reporter. [volume] (Kennewick, Wash.) 1914-1938, 1937-04-15
CHAPTER XIV

i strange interval were spent with
Joe, in his isolated farm house on
the cliffs. From this base he made
many of his Investigations among
the pools and rocks of the shore,
but he had had time to beatty the
place too. and most of the changes
were made at TOny's suggestion.
Together they had designed the
great fireplace at the end Of the
sitting room. and together had
shared the first successful fire there
In. A gracious wide terrace, tagged
In terrac0tta red. had been opened
at the south side of the house; the
sitting room and dining room lost
something of their boxlike stiffness
through the line of French floor
windows, and the gay striped avn
ing over the terrace sent a mellow
light through them both.
Tony knew the little domain
thoroughly now. She knew where
the salt box stood In the kitchen,
and how quickest to set the table
with the blue cups and dragon
plates that had come from San
Franchises Chinatown. She and Joe
had many busy hours together.
After Ruth's death It was the only
place she wanted to go.
She knew what he felt for her, but
he never made her uncOmfortably
conscious of it. They were merely
the best of companions these days.
Joe always had another house guest
or two; a fellow scientist, spec
tacled and garrulous; a musical
couple who kept the old piano go
ing; pair of wandering boys who
we're working their way around the
world during the holidays.
To entertain all Of these Tony
was at her happiest and brightest.
She and Joe planned meals, fused
together in the kitchen. compounded
pot roasts and salads. Her beauty
was In its glory: she was twenty
seven, now; newspaper woman
of some years standing; confident
and superb in her role of friend and
companion to an interesting man.
In her heart she felt that the
last touch of romance was added to
the situation after Ruth's death.
Somewhere in the world was the
brilliant man this brilliant and love-
ly woman loved. He was coming
for her; she would presently have
her marvellous hour. Under the
surface of the spring Sundays when
she and JOe-and sometimes Brenda
and Alvin and the boys, and some
times Cliff and Mary Rose-were
moving through the familiar hours.
the thrilling consciousness that
Larry was somewhere In the world,
alive, thinking Of her, flowed like a
shining current. sounded like a vi
brant organ tone.
It had become almost routine for
her to go to Brenda on Saturday.
Sometimes Aunt Meg went too, for
Brenda was In more spacious quar-
tiers. Sometimes Aunt Meg stayed
with Bruce or went to Aunt Sally |;
often one of the newspaper men
was going down that way, and Tony
had lift.
She would arrive In her city
clothes at about four, get into COM
Portable cottons, sit with Brenda In
the sunny back yard. with Anthony
tottering about on the new grass.
and George asleep in his shabby
coach beside them.
At noon Sundays Joe's car al
ways twinkled up; sometimes they
were all invited to lunch; usually
he and Tony went off c0ntentedly
together. 1.-THE marriedest people
that ever weren't married." Brenda
commented, in irritation. "What
she's thinking of, not to take Joe r.
Before Ruth's death, when she
had put this question directly to
Tony, Tony had answered, II don't
know, Bendy. I'm crazy, guess.
Joe's ten thousand times too good
for me or any woman. He hasn't
q fault, that I can see. He's always
xood-natured. always intelligent, al
ways cheerful and hospitable and
affectionate and interested"
After Ruth's death she no longer
said this or said much at all. There
was a far-away light In her eyes
she went into moments Of dream
ang, giving no explanation for her
abstraction, perhaps unconscious of
e. Joe was only one detail In the
vague, thrilling background of the
thoughts that glowed and shone like
hidden treasure In her soul.
How would Larry return to her!
Where would she first see him, the
tall figure with the little stoop to
the squared shoulders. the brown
face with its high-bridged nose and
glasses over keen gray eyes Would
he telephone very casually: "Tony1
This Is Larry. I got In this morn.
ing. VIII you come to lunch with
me at Jules'?"
Or would he be standing by her
desk In the city office some after
noon? "Come and have dinner with