The Waterbury Democrat., 1941-06-07

So thls was the way It was to be --just as 1t had always been walls between theml We'll, if that was what stephan wanted, she could play that way. too.
 Deborah moved nervously about the room, turning on lamps, lower- ing shades.
 "Technically, of course,' she heard herself rambling on, hating [ the bright brittleness of her own voice-"I'm the head of this house; but if you hadn't clicked with Bridgie, you would have been put in The Masther's room over her dead body. Mere civilians get parked else- where"
 He listened to her, laughing a little at first. At length he came and stood looking down at her, his eyes troubled.
 Deborah" he said gently, you're somehow - not like yourself What is the trouble?"
 If only he would not stand there, so very near that she was conscious in every fiber of his nearnessl
 I can't let him hurt mo like that - again, Deborah thought He doesn't Intend to; but he somehow makes a gesture, few words that mean--just nothing-seem to mean 50 much.
 T suppose 1t is too much to ex- poet everything to be Just the same" he went on. T wanted-but you sec, l am not entirely free agent"
 Pew of us are If 1t comes to that Really, stephan, there's uothing--"
 Deborah was almost glad when the front door opened, and Angie came in--as Angie was likely to do at any time without the form &lity of ringing,
 "rhc fogs so thick you could cut It into pieces and fry it," Angie called from the hallway, "Debby, may borrow your last copy of The World by the Week.? Mines"
 Strolling Into the room, strip ping from her head the bright handkerchief she wore, she stopped vhort at sight of Stephan.
 well Welcome to our cityi" she cried.
 While Deborah went to hunt through the periodical rack, she heard Angie explaining briskly, T like my news predigested and Rt least 6 week old, MT. von Thal- mann. By that time it's history, and there's no use tearing your hair over it."
 You'd tear your hair over the Old Testament, Angle" Deborah threw over her shoulder, that is, Af you ever took the trouble to read at."
 Perhaps I shall some time - If the present world stops being ex. citing , By the way, MT. von T'halmann," Angle went on with the bluntness Deborah had come to dread, "all sorts of rumors keep coming from Europe. They say Ger inany's sitting on a young volcano in what used to be CZechoslovakia. But it's all so secret. Perhaps you can give us the lowdoWn."
 I'm afraid not" Stephan was gravely polite. "I have been in this country for some time, you know"
 "oh, but this started months ago. Angie persisted. "The story goes that sabotage in the Czech armament plants has been really serious; and that some under ground organization has been sim- ply papering Europe with subversive pamphlets I understand that the people. find the things In the most improbable places--under doormats, in their laundry bags, or wrapped around milk bottles, for instance It's said that they have even been slipped under pillows and into pockets in the most exalted Nazi circles" ...*.
 "Indeed?" Stephan said blandly. "But that seems rather reckless form of practical joke, don't you think?"
 Well, it's kind of reckless ness that seems to have gone over in a big way with the masses. Ac- cording to the story, one bright lad who slipped a tract into 8 German generals glove became Public Hero Number One over night. It seems that he had been thumbing his nose at the secret police for so long without their
 g able to put the finger on
 that he was nicknamed Der
 ergeist'."
 Poltergeist'?" Deborah echoed
 h the magazine rack. "That's
 posed to be some kind of ma-