Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1940-07-19

March faced without the slightest
spiritual cringing, nor any sense OF
withdrawal, the thought of one hu-
man being belonging to another. She
belonged to Brent. They were a part
of each other, vital, integral part.
There was a feeling Of uplift in the
very thought. It dissolved the core of
shame that had tended to embitter her
love for him, that love which had per-
sisted, stubbornly and without pride,
after all that had happened. Her love
and her sense of belonging, had out
lasted Brent's. But that didn't mat
ter. Whether he loved her, whether
he wanted her or not, she was still his.
She always would be.
She became aware that the cab had
stopped and, looking out, observed the
facade of the building where Clay liv-
ed. She paid the driver and crossed
the sidewalk quickly, leaving him star
ing after her, unconcealed speculation
in his gaze. Beautiful DANES in fur
coats and without any makeup
weren't usually abroad at this hour.
She'd been crying, too. Oh, well. :.
Clay let her in, after an under
standable delay. A boyish, somehow
strange Clay, in a dark silk robe over
pajamas, sudden concern in his face
at sight Of her. March leaned for a
dizzy, shaken moment against the
door, incapable of further effort, in
capable of speech. Her eyes were
enormous in her white, strained face.
Then Clay's arm was around her,
steadying, reassuring. Sensing her
need, he led her to a chair, seated her
in it before he asked, "My dear, what
is it? What's happened?"
March relaxed YEARLY and Clay
bent over her. His hands clasped
hers and he could feel the chill OF
them even through her gloves. He
pulled the gloves gently from her fin
gers and warmed her hands with his
cts Griff. He" but she couldn't
r go on. She motioned toward the paper
; that had slipped from her grasp.
: Clay picked it up, opened it. She
5 saw shocked realization leap to his
: eyes.
She murmured, "Read it to me, Clay
because couldn't"
While she listened, her eyes closed
Clay's voice filled in the blank space!
in Griff's final adventure. He hat
> gone ice boating late the previous af
ternoon on the frozen lake. When HI
had not returned by nightfall the 9th
er members of the house-party be-
came uneasy. An alarm was giver
and searching parties started out
Eventually they had found spot
where ice-cutting had been in progress
And, in the yawning, dark aperture
a partially submerged sail had given
mute evidence of the tragedy which
had taken place. The boat must have
sunk almost instantly, dragging its
passenger down with it into the icy
: water. Griff's body had been recov-
cred finally, tangled in the rigging
There followed details of his life, his
colorful escapades, his money and
possessions. Other members of the
house-party were mentioned. The
Count and Countess Cassano, Richie
Beresford, Cherry Blaine, several
whose names aroused no recognition
in March's mind. The final para
graph touched briefly on the reason
for the question carried in the title
line.
Clay read: Zone of the guests ex-
pressed conviction that young Nor
gan had deliberately planned his
death. She offered as corroborating
evidence his recent unnatural depres-
sion, which may have been caused by
his involvement several months ago
with the wife of a neighboring resort
owner, who has since separated from
her husband and left Kenoqua. The
Countess Cassano, however, emphati-
cally denied this possibility"
March's eyes opened slowly. Graft
tude toward Pat welled up in her. Pat
was kind. Pat was tolerant.
Clay said, "Im sorry, March. Ter
ribly sorry. 1 know you must feel :.
But that suicide angle is absurd, ut
terly unfounded. Of course his death
was accidental"
March's voice was more controlled
than it had been, murmuring, "You
didn't know him, Clay. It-might not
have been an accident"
She told him, then, of Griff's visit
Christmas Eve and of all that had
transpired between them. But Clay