The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-04-11
lustration by Virginia Krausman.

cloak. with a corsage of orchids on her shoulder and the glitter of jewels at her throat. She carried an expensive overnight case of alli- gator, and she used this vlciously to prod her erTing husband on his way.
 Coming, my love coming. F'Heaven's sake, stop poking me! !"
 Now the ships final whistle sounded, and as the moment of sailing drew near, two husky sailors proceeded cautiously down the gangplank to aid the gentleman. One on each side of him, they eased him aboard, guided his steps toward the salon. AS they passed in front of Joyce, the eXuhc. ant gentleman looked up and r her eyes. He strengthened .omentarily. "Lo, Beautiful" .e offered with falter- ing but genuine enthusiasm.
 Joyce turned aside, but not be- fore she felt the woman's cold eyes glaring at her.
 Slowly but surely the big ship backed out of her dock, and the last farewells from ship to shore grew a little more shrill, little more tense.
 "Goodby, mother Goodby, Joe .. .. goodby .. . goodby :"
 And shortly those on shore melted into no more than a way ing mass of white handkerchiefs and faint voices, and the river moved the two little worlds far ther and farther apart. Midstream the ship hesitated, turned her bow slowly toward the lower bay, and headed out into the open, endless Atlantic.
 The late afternoon air was cool, and as they left the shelter of the harbor stiff wind came LID, Whlstling around the decks and sweeping before it all evidence of the gay moments before sailing. Confetti streamers and corsage Wrappings were whipped into tangled snarls and lifted high over the railings; doors were slammed swiftly shut and deck chairs were slid about before the busy stewards could fold and tie them down for the night. As soon as the skyline of Manhattan began to fade on the horizon, passen- gers took quick refuge in their staterooms.
 But Joyce remained on deck. fascinated. Not one moment of this would she miss. Alone. she stood at the rail, staring toward the sea, challenging the wind. There would be plenty of time to enjoy her cabin.
 A steward, fastening the last deck chair securely, looked over at Joyce.
 Better get below, Miss" he ad- v,lsed.. Its blowing up pretty hard"
 She pushed herself back from the rail. I'm going right in," she promised. Just one walk around the deck" She pulled her hat down, buttoned her coat closer.
 Up she went with the bow of the ship, hesitating with it for an instant as they rode the crest of wave, then she stepped for ward to turn corner.
 She stepped forward, but she did not turn the corner. In that split second, another lone pas senger, speeded by the force of the wind, came toward her, and as the next wave struck, they col llded. Joyce. being the less heavy of the two, slipped backward. and the young man put out a quick hand to catch her.
 Whatever happened, it was in- stantaneous. Perhaps the young man was over-eager in his help tulness; perhaps another lurch of the ship pushed his arm. At any rate, in his attempt to steady her, he caught her elbow instead, and showed it, violently.
 Too late Joyce cried out. She stood there, wide-eyed and dumb founded, and watched her pocket book, forced out of her arm by the sudden contact. fly over the rail of