The Waterbury Democrat., 1941-01-10
SUZANNE PAYS A CALL
CHAPTER V

Martha whirled in sick surprise. She peered out into the hall, but whoever it was had already gone. The shuttle of feet on the stairs, going up, and the slamming of a door on the floor above, however, told her a second later that it must have been the stout, gray-haired school teacher who lived with the thin spindly piano teacher.
 'Neighbors!' she thought, furi- ously, Dear, nosey, nasty-minded neighborsl"
 A moment later Butch came bounding up the stairs. His tail wagged his little paws reached up muddy, of course-and his eyes told her how much he loved her. 1t was curiously comforting. She closed the door, put the chain on, and thought, "The devil with them"
 But the little incident stayed with her. For days, she could not shake it off Once she passed the stout school teacher on the stairs, and she avoided the sharp eyes, holding her head high.
 She did not mention the incl dent to Paul. It was too ridicu- 1ous.
 The only thing that troubled her was that Suzanne did not tele- phone, and Paul did not bring her around again, as she had expected. The quarrel must have been more serious than she had realized. It was awkward. too, for now Paul came by himself. And she simply could not drown that feeling of eyes watching her as she left the apartment with him; eyes again as they said good night at the door.
 Bills letters were short. Shorter than she liked. He seemed very cheerful, even happy. He duti- fully said he missed her, sent her loads of love. The only thing that worries me- he wrote, lis how you're getting along. I hate to think you're lonely, or worrying about me. The camp is swell, bet ter than the Reception Station. We're in winterized tents, barracks too, but I drew tent. The first 13 weeks here are supposed to toughen us up; maybe that's the Idea of the tent. Darling, be sure to write me how you're getting on"
 Reading that letter one morning at her desk, she thought with sur prise, I'm getting on even better than I have any right!" Certainly she could not be lonely, having dinner with Paul almost every night, seeing movies with him, and going riding.
 One night they'd stayed in and played two-handed bridge. And one night they had taken Butch for Q long walk. He was so pitt fully cooped up. Paul said 1t would be better, perhaps, to put him out to board on farm he knew.
 She read Bills letter again. Suddenly she decided, I'll stay home tonight" She could not quite put her finger on what made her decide that
 She told Paul while she was in his office going over some reports with him, "The round of gaiety is wearing out, Paul. And have no clean stockings left I believe I'll fry myself couple of eggs tonight and stay home"
 T suppose a girl has to have some time to herself" he said. "And there's no danger of weeps any more, is there?'
 NO. I'm getting quite accus- toned to being a widow" She added, honestly, Father too gay widow, expect"
 "Nonesense," he said. Lets get back to these reports
 She wished the stockings, and then stuck Butch in the bathtub and washed him. He whined and moaned piteously as he always did. This had always been Bills task.
 After that, she strengthened her bureau drawers. It was still only half past 8. Whats the matter with me? One evening at home, and I'm bored stiff"
 The apartment seemed so emptyl So quiet! She turned on the radio. She remembered that quiz program and Paul's voice saying that the Army didn't sep arate people quite as permanently as Reno
 "What's the matter with me?"
 Definitely, it wasn't good to see him as much as she had been do- ing. And alone. Not that there was anything in it, but
 The telephone rang. She had asked Bill to call her long dis tance, in her last letter. Pull loose from some change" she had