The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-01-21
CAST OF CHARACTERS
CHAPTER XIV

T told you I'd never let you run away from mel" Bret said, for 1t was Bret, holding her fast, looking down into her eyes. "You may have done that to some other fellow-re- member I told you thought you'd run away from someone? - but you're not going to run away from mel"
 Apparently she was not, as she could hear the rumble of the mid night train, shaking the little plat form as 1t went on by. How did you know I was running away2" Connie asked.
 Instinct, perhaps" Bret laugh ed. "I've been plenty miserable these last days, honey. So miserable I couldn't stand 1t any longer. l felt I had to see you tonight. I rode by, got Eloise to come to the door-and made her tell me where you had gone. She gave me your message, sweetheart"
 And you came after mel" That meant that he was not afraid, that her money did not matter, that he loved her, regardless!
 "I'd have followed you to the end of te earth" he said. eve been pig-headed, stubborn - and yes, I reckon I did forget that love is the biggest thing in the world, more important than all the gold in it. But you must ad- init, dear, 1t gave me quite a jolt to learn who you really are"
 As he talked he had led her back to his car; now he tossed her bag into the back, held open the door for her with flourish and bow.
 "Where are we going?" Connie asked. Not that she cared. She was so deliriously happy that she did not care about anything. Bret had forgiven her for her decep- tion; he understood why she had acted as she had-he was here at her side now, which was the most important thing of all.
 "Where?" He turned to look down at her, so little and lovely, as he had said, at his side-the sweet curve of her cheek. the bright intensity of her eyes. were going to find the first justice of the peace that we can locate in this part of the country, and at this rather outlandish hour. We're going to rout him out of his nice warm bed, too, and tell him to get busy and change your name once more. For the last time, this :"
 "Oh, Brett" It was all that she could say, but it was enough.
 He had not waited even for that much; he had switched on the ignition, thrown the little car into gear; they were speeding back, almost as fast as he must have come.
 "Darling," Connie put 8 hand on the rough tweed of his coat. "You're not afraid, then - just be- cause I happen to have so much money? You know it isn't my fault, really, that I was born to inherit so much! We'll be happy in spite of it. We'll work 1t out together"
 "I've never been afraid of any, thing in my life," Bret said. "I'm not going to start now. I'd rather you didn't have the money, espe- cially so much. I'd rather you were just plain Katie Blyn. But you are you, my sweet-as I've told you, the one and only girl in all the world for me. And so that's all that counts"
 She gave 8 little sigh, nestled closer to him. Yes, that was all that counted. He loved her, be- cause she was herself, just as she loved him because he was Bret Hardesty, no other. There was no rhyme nor reason in love; per- haps no logic. Yet she had been right when she had told Eloise it could surmount any obstacle. that 1t was greater than life itself.
 It was no easy task, as Bret had predicted, to find justice of the peace at this time of night. The first place they stopped it was im- possible to arouse anyone, but at the next, Bret pounded on the door persistently until finally he succeed ed in getting response.
 This was not the sort of wedding that Constance Corby, the richest girl in the world, should have had. Not the sort of wedding that Con- nie had dreamed of having one day. That would have been a gorg- eous and lavish affair, with thou sand or more guests, flashlights fiaring, reporters waiting for inter views, a crowd of the curious pulp lie pressing outside the canopy that led to the church, mounted police men to keep them in order, an es- cort on motorcycles to clear a path. Connie would have worn white satin, fashioned by one of the lead- .ng Paris creators, veil that would Aave stretched for yards and yards, a prayer book bound in white lea