The Wilmington morning star., 1940-10-08

Inc SlSlL OIL hODtIL iOiAAS 0
bags, so recently packed, so ready
to 70, made Linda a little sick to
her stomach. Robert had not said
goodby, had not told her that he
was leaving. Surely he could have
done that!
After all, if you loved a girl and
were friends, even if you didn't eH-
pect her to love you, and somebody
else had entered your life, you
could let her know that you were
going away.
Robert wasn't a coward. It must
mean, then, that he had considered
the matter so finished, SO COM
pIete, that there was nothing more
to say.
Linda heard her voice saying,
Are you sure that Mr.. Barton has
already left?"
Eyes, about Is minutes ago.
Seems he was wanted at the police
headquarters, then he dashed In
and right out"
And his housemdn IS ne
still upstairs?"
NO, he's gone, too. Did you
want to see him? I've got an ad-
dress somewhere" The janitor felt
through his pockets. Here it is
a telephone number to call
if I want him"
He gave Linda the number. She
did not write it down. She could
remember it.
'eThese trunks 60 TO his club to
wait for further orders, you know
Some life that lad leads. He's sail
ing away to South America n OF
these days and the stuff will fol-
low him. Guess he has work to do
on the bridge upstate first"
Eyes, I guess he has, she
agreed duly. Il think I'll be giving
up my apartment the first Of next
month, too. You might like to hang
up a card advertising it so a new
tenant will come in"
Not until this moment had she
thought of this move. But all OF
a sudden, in a space as brief as a
bright meteor falling or a singing
of rain on a wide glass pane, she
made up her mind. She did not
want to live here. Robert was
gone. Ronnie never would come
again. Caroline was married.
There had been too much drama
in the small apartment for her to
live in it now in quietness, with the
whisper of tall trees in the garden
and the shining of a red candle on
a monastery altar as her only
companions.
Gosh, Miss Avery, that's
tough" the man answered. Where
you planning to live? Or are you
being married to hat young horn
player?"
mo, I'm not being married. I'm
going to a club for girls"
Yes, that would be the answer.
A club for women. There was one,
I'D on Fifty-Seventh street. Hun
dreds and hundreds of girls and
women lived there. and there were
roof gardens and long dining
rooms, and great living rooms and
very small bedrooms furnished in
maple and chintz.
And, oh yes, no man could come
up unless he got a written permit
from the desk, and then he couldn'1
stay very long. Yes, she would &C
there. There was a swimming
pool and there was a gymnasium
And maybe in a strange new at.
mosphere where women lived when
they wanted she could
think of work only. Maybe she
could concentrate on being an ex.
ecutive.
All Of this went through her
mind so swiftly that it was over ir
a seconds fraction.
But all Of the time she was say
ing that telephone number to her
self, knowing that she would call
it as soon as she gained the pri-
vacy of her own room. She must
hear Rob's voice once more, must
let him tell her that he was going
away forever and forever.
Mice girl, that Miss Trent" the
talkative janitor persisted. Met
her a couple of times"
"Oh, she was down here? l met
her, too. On an island" Con a SUM-
flooded, lush green island bound by
swift blue water one morning when
Bella ~LANAN-COURT RI