Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1940-06-07
CHAPTER Is
"I'm coming too"

I'm coming TOO.
1t was Richie, clambering on the
running board.
But Griff said, with perfect good
nature, ooh, no, you aren't" and SHOW
ed him of fagain.
Richie stood there, staring after
them aggrievedly, until the car behind
honked for him to get in.
"Was there any particular reason
for that?" March wanted to know.
"None," Griff assured her calmly.
81 won't make any passes at you, if
that's what you mean. Not tonight,
at any rate. It's too soon. I'm man
of finesse. I'll wait till you know me
better"
Gam going to know you better?"
Much" Griff said simply. 81 have
a feeling about these things. Second
sight, l suppose you'd call it."
"And aren't you ever wrong?"
practically always" Suddenly he
wasn't joking. March sensed his
abrupt change of mood. He said,
"Look-March. l like you. 1 think
you're swell person, one of the swell
est / ever knew. Is there any harm
in that?"
He sounded in that moment young
and very lonely. 1t was as though
him to hold out his hands beseeching
ly for her liking, her friendship. Pity
stirred in her, knife-sharp, not alto
gether willing.
He repeated, els there, March? Be-
cause don't want to harm you in any
way. / don't want to make trouble
for you. It's just that / like you
and I've hoped that you like me, too"
He said then, quite seriously, "You
wouldn't believe me if 1 told you how
few people have liked me, not because
they ought to or because I could do
something for them, but just for my
self"
March said simply, 81 like you,
Griff."
His hand closed over hers where
it lay on the seat between them. But,
almost at once he released it. He
said, "Then we're friends, March.
And don't you forget it."
They were turning onto the main
street of the town now. A little a
head doomed the unprepossessing IA
cade of Sandy's place.
Griff asked, "How about riding
with me tomorrow? We've some
pretty fair horses. Maybe Brent
would ride, too"
March said apologetically, "He
hasn't much time. Neither of US has,
really. But I'll ask him and let you
know"
Sandy's place was warm and sticky
and thick with smoke and crowded
and noisy with people. There was a
bar at one side and long gambling
room at the other, with a space for
dancing surrounded by small tables
at the back. People circulated freely
from one room to the other, smart, ur-
ban-looking people in evening clothes,
women in Stacks and sport clothes,
men in creased and crumpled white.
A queer medley of types and classes,
old and young, rich and poorer, inno-
cent and worldly. The crowd that
had come from Griff's party made
their way through the crush to the
gambling room, to congregate, al
most in their entirety about the rou
lette table. Most of them bought
chips at once from the bored croupier.
The others stood watching.
March had never played roulette.
The turning wheel, the brittle click
of the ball, the croupier's flashing
rake, pushing and pulling the chips
expertly, fascinated her.
She realized that Griff had ad-
dressed her and turned an inquiring
glance upon him.
He repeated, "Would you like to
playa"
But March shook her head. 81
don't know anything about it."
cts SIMPLE" Griff placed a little
stack of chips before her. "You pick
a color or number or a group of
numbers. Of course the odds are
smaller on group, or if you simply
play red or black, because your
chances of winning are greater" He
toook two chips from the top of the
stack before. "I'll place your first
bet for YOU"
The wheel whirled. The little ball
raced dizzily. The bored croupier
pushed over a stack of chips.
Gust like that Griff grinned