The Washington times., 1938-03-16
COMPANIONS IN MISERY

on my way to the kitchen to
broil a steak"
COMPANIONS IN MISERY
,, Gloria's face was very white, yet
! she had herself under control
when she quietly opened the
kitchen door. Tommy was in
there, sitting before the enamel
topped table, his red head buried
in his arms. Like some one in
daze Gloria watched her brother.
His fingers were twitching ner-
vously, there was tragic tenseness
in the whole sweep of his long
back.
Gloria said, Tommy"
He looked up quickly, his eyes
stricken. He said, I'm tired"
But he wasn't. Tommy was never
tired. She knew that.
She went to him, her own
troubles forgotten for the moment.
She put her slim fingers on his
shoulders. Tommy, what is it?
Tommy, tell mel"
His young face closed against
her. He got up, a tall, handsome
fellow with rebellious hair and a
powerful body. He began unwrap-
ping the steak. He said, between
almost clenched teeth: "CripeS,
what a steak! It was a noble COW
that laid down its life for this
one!"
CHAPTER v
Tommy turned and left the
room then, and Gloria saw that
his chin was rigid with the effort
to control his face. She turned
quickly to lighting the gas jets,
unwrapping the groceries. She
felt she could not be idle for a
second now; she could not be left
with her thoughts and the con-
sciousness that something warm,
precious and vital had gone out Of
her life.
Upstairs, in the one small room
directly under the caves of the
bungalow, Tommy sat down and
stared blindly through the tiny
window that looked out upon
Peter Kent's garden.
Downstairs he could hear the
rattle of dishes and pans and
Gloria moving too quickly about
the kitchen. In the living room
he could hear Isabel and Rodney
talking softly. He said to himself,
furiouSly: Gloria ought to hate
Isabel for what she's obviously try
ing to do! Peter deserves better
break than he's getting. too"
THOUGHT OF MARCELLA
Then Tommy thought of Mar
celia Drake. In brooding misery
he thought back on the last six
months. Like the public at large,
he had always heard of Marcela
Drake.
He had heard and read in gossip
columns what college dances she
attended; what fraternity pins
she wore; what liners carried her
to Europe every year, and what
famous people she and her
brother, Henry. met and played
with.
He had, like everyone else in the
! city, glimpsed Marcella on the
streets three or four times year.
She was great heiress and he
was just a lad in the street; lad
born on the other side of the
tracks who had Sharpened his wits
as a newsboy, who had had repe-
titious contacts with poolroom
operators, speakeasy owners, cor
ner policemen and barroom sports:
men, and who was now augment
ing his natural equipment with a
premature business career necessi-
tated by the death of his father
and the needs Of his mother.
JUST A DREAM
But seeing Marcella Drake that
June day, across the desk from
him, touching her slim gloved
fingers as he handed her her mail
and looked into the shining depths
of her dark eyes, had mattered.
He had told himself as she had dis
appeared down the lobby: Don't
be a fool That girl can never be
anything but Q romantic dream to
you, a lovely creature separated
from you by the insuperable bar
rier of wealth and socially am
bilious parents"
! And yet, from that day when the
brakes had turned their enormous
estate over to remodelers and had
moved into the Palace, every fiber
of his being had been exquisitely
conscious of Marcella.
He began watching for Marcella
hungrily aware Of her being under
the same roof with him. Every
time an elevator door swung open
| IaA IaAlynI IaAVaaAVII,v ~ LaoNsf I.oa,