Evening star., 1938-07-17

times he had come here in evening
dress, mounting the three flights of
stairs with a big package from the
caterers: he came because he loved her
so much. He knew beautiful and bril-
liant women, but it was Olga he had
chosen to love. 1t was wonderful
thing. But troubling thing. too.
Hes unhappy" she thought. II
think l could make him happy. I'm
sure could
And the day must surely come when
she must decide whether he was to
stay or 60 She lit cigarette, and
leaned back, thinking of him. The
telephone rang. "Olga?"
Hello. Lewis!'
will there be chance Of finding
you at home? =. May Gomez"
He never took it for granted that he
could come; there was always that
anxiety in his voice, always that
Difference.
I'D love you to come, Lewis
"In half-an-hour then? A little pic
mic supper? Thank you. dear girl
Just time to change, to put on a new
dress that he hadn't seen. black
dress. beautifully cut, and much more
Expensive than she could afford. But
he would notice it; he would look at
her with delight. He noticed every
thing. When he came in he would take
both her hands, and look at her with
faint frown, and know at once if she
we're tired, or serious, or lighthearted;
and he would be whatever she wanted.
She stood at the bedroom window.
to watch for him. She was so happy,
she always felt SO young and pretty
when Lewis was coming. A taxi would
stop and he would get out; he would
glance up at the window and his flne-
drawn face would light at the sight OF
her. Lewis the important, the dis
tinguished Lewis Calladine had chosen
her to love. They would open the
package together in the kitchen.
Sometimes he brought things she
had never heard of, and sometimes she
didn't like them. But she never let him
know. She knew that whatever he
brought would be the best that could
be got, lust as his clothes and his
shoes, and his linen were the very best
lust as his collection of Oriental art
was perfect of its sort. and a reflection
of his fastidious taste.
He would be tired; he was always
tired, but he would be happy. They
would eat their picnic supper at the
gate-leg table. with candles on it. and
she would know that he delighted in
Everything she said. every gesture she
made. They would sit here wonder
fully happy. and nobody in the world
would know where Lewis was.
He was little late That wasn't like
him. "A traffic JAM" she thought.
She was tired of standing; she sat
down on the sofa to wait, but she was
restless, and went to the window again.
Fifteen minutes late. Hes never
been late before. He said. 'half-an-
hour :"
A whole hour now. "He could tele-
phone if he were delayed. That's the
least he Gould do It's thoughtless
- it's cruel -"
Better to be angry at Lewis because
he didn't telephone. Much better to be
angry than to let that icy other thing
take control. She was crying standing
at the window. There was taxi.
Lewis would be in that =. No, not in
that one
"Why doesn't he telephone? she
cried aloud, and the sound of her own
voice made her suddenly and dread
fully alone. Suppose he couldn't tele-
phone? Suppose something had hap
pened?
She had known for long time that
something had happened. Lewis
wouldn't do this - If he could help it.