The Wilmington morning star., 1940-08-20
ONE

LIMA Qdu Secl1 AIOiioAo 'o'' va
rainy night, n year ago, at a
railroad station. 4 train was COM
ing and Ronald was taking it.
Now as she glimpsed m
through the smoke-fogged drawing
room in a Manhattan penthouse
high above the East river, where
too many people talked too much
and too fast, the cup in her slim
hand wobbled.
Tall, Drowned, lean, moving
slowly in his expensive tweeds,
Ronald crossed to speak to the
hostess. His profile was toward
Linda-that profile which had
coaxed her eyes away from the
movie screen back at Hamilton,
Va, because he was so much bet
ter looking than cinema men.
Ronald turned and stood quite
still. He narrowed his eyes a little,
as though someone had told him
something he didn't quite believe.
Then he smiled, his mouth twisted
into the grin she had known since
she was ten and he was twelve,
and he started toward her.
Linda and Ronald had intended
to say goodby quite casually that
rainy April night just twelve
months ago. She had thought that
Ronald would kiss her lightly, as
though he were going back to col
lege and would see her at a game
or a house party somewhere. After
all, it was sort of maudlin to get
excited because all of that was
over. Ronald's fathers estate had
yielded nothing but debts, and Ron
aid needed a job.
Then, as the train slowed down,
Ronald put his arms around her.
He didn't kiss her. Just stood,
clutching her, as though he wanted
to miss the train. AT last he said:
IT feel-things about you, Linda.
You know them. Always remem-
Der, won't you's' Then he tried to
be gay. "some night, when my
names news. I'll give you a ring
from Singapore or Trieste or the
Hoboken ferry!"
He picked up his well-worn pig
skin bags, the case which held the
trumpet on which he intended to
swing to fame, and climbed on the
train.
One year before and now
he was coming. Not by intention.
BY accident. And she didn't know
how to act. Lots of things could
have happened to Ronald in this
year which had started with two
letters, a card from a ship whose
orchestra he had Joined, and a
cable from London when he landed
an obscure place in a famous band.
Then he had slipped into strange
silence months ago.
Linda steadied her wide green
eyes. With conscious effort S h e
sent dark eyebrows and the corn
r of her red mouth flying up
ward. She even wrinkled her short,
straight nose a little, never guess
ing the tall young man who was
almost in front of her remember
ed the gesture.
But when Ronald's strong hands
closed over hers, her heart became
a trapeze that swung madly. She
spoke calmly, though.
Hi, Ronnie! I've been waiting
for the telephone to ring" Not one
tear tripped her sweet, husky
tones.
II couldn't call, I ran out of
nickles," he answered in the mood
she had established, but his eyes
searched hers. 'FYou aren't tn e
same, Linda. You've changed"
Wiser, 1 think" she parted.
> Ronald, Ronald, you could have
reversed the charges! Only you
wouldn't. You're too independent.
There wasn't an hour that I
didn't listen for the bell, or watch
for the mailman"
Ronald didn't smile when he re-
piled. His gray eyes we're serious.
IT had your old number, Linda.
The n for your phone down in
Virginia-Center 4o3. I did call,
and they said the telephone was
disconnected"
"You did call" Now her smile
was radiant, there were stars in
the deep green of her eyes. "You
remembered. Why Ronnie"
Because we had a compact" he
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