The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-02-25
CHAPTER xxx

For the first few moments follow ing Sybil's announcement, Joan wanted to get up and run from the house. Her heart died within her breast, and she prayed that bolt from the sky might kill her, too. Yet she managed to hold herself ter ribly calm, as if these were her last minutes on earth, and she had to go out with dignity.
 Somewhere in the blue and ivory living room, clock licked off the seconds, and Joan knew a frantic hope that it might be too late for Sybil to tell the story with adequate emphasis. She would not want it to lose its effec- tiveness upon Bob by rushing through it. Joan felt that she could bear anything rather than see the look in his eyes when he heard it.
 If only he might get on the train to Washington first
 At the moment, however, he was mildly curious.
 50 Philip is in San Francisco" he remarked. He seems to have a pretty wide territory for his sur vey. Whats the gossip, Sybil?"
 Sybil laughed with delight. "Oh, I can't tell you, Bob," she said archly. Not yet"
 Joan breathed with infinite re- lief. Perhaps, she thought, she will make bargain with me. A bargain wherein I shall promise to disappear in return for her silence. If she plans to do that, then she will not speak of it now. She will wait until Bob has gone. She will wait.
 As the minutes slowly passed and Sybil said no more, Joan was suge that was her intention. What she could not guess was that Philip had merely phoned from his hotel in San Francisco to announce his arrival in that city, following the trail. I'm getting warmer" he had said. Tt won't be long now" And Sybil had amplified his words to amuse herself.
 Finally it was 10 o'clock and Bob was preparing to go, and Joan and Sybil were exchanging good night pleasantries in meaningless but ade- uuate phrases. Even in the few mln- utes that she was alone with Sybll upstairs in the rose and silver bou- doir. there was nothing said. Not even when Sybil graciously retrieved the black kid gloves Joan had drop ped, and their hands met-SybllS burning and feverish, and loans cold ard clammy as death. What ever was in Sybil's mind, she gave no hint of it. She murmured only to cover the confusion of the mo- ment: What lovely gloves, Joan! | like the petit-point trimming .,
 And Bob, waiting at the foot Of the stairs, smiled approvingly as they came down together. It was great, he thought, that Joan and Sybil were hitting it of together so nicely.
 Driving the few blocks to the Inn III 6OD IOdNloOCA, oOoAA oe-N> her silent farewell to him. The words she might have sald-the words which might have expressed the depth of her love for him-sne could not bring to her lips. He would understand, she told herself. In his heart he would realize why she was leaving him-why she was Sacrl- ficing their love now rather than have its fine bright flame turn to bitter ashes as they tried to live to- pether under the shadow Of the hast. He would understand, and. he would cherish the memory of ther brief happiness.
 Nothing that Sybil might tell him could tarnish that memory. what ever the world thought Of Joan Barrett, he would know that she had possessed courage and strength and honor. , .o
 Bob chatted on all oblivious to the tumult within her, because now. after she had steeled herseli to meet the first shock, she 1ounu that her actions obeyed her VIII more easily.
 They found MT. Hendry and Norton in the grill chatting amlably