The daily monitor. (Mount Clemens, Mich.) 1940-1942, 1941-06-11

MA 0eNVuS0s u0SA
through The enveloping murk.
Then, borne by . current of air
from the entrance, the smoke
swirled aloft, and she could see .
little.
In the hallway, the formality
of his precise little foreign bow
discounted by the holiday flash
of his smile, stood Stephan.
During the heartache of the
past days, Deborah had often re-
minded herself that even If she
would ever see him again, moth
ing could be quite the same. But
now, standing there, he looked
so like a m all boy who has
planned q tremendous surprise,
but is not quite sure how you will
receive it, that struggling to her
feet, she ran toward him, hands
extended, crying out, stephan!
How spl e n d d to see you! ]
didn't"
She broke off, small cold fin
gers clutching at her heart.
Behind him, the imperfectly
latched door had swung open
again, and for q moment he stood
against No. Mans Land of misty
sea and earth. From the gray
smother, wisps of scud drifted,
wraithlike, into the hall, and
swirled about his bright bare
head-as they had done that first
night in California. Beyond, the
foghorn d r o n d its unearthly
warning.
Suddenly, like an o m I n o VI
overtone, Deborah heard again
in m m DRY Angela's drowsy
voice, repeating that fantastic
fragment of fisherman's lore:
I'LL fated is that which comes
out of the fog!
For always, in the end, 1t must
return whence it came"
For the first time she realized
how inescapably her feeling for
Stephan had always been laced
with fear-fear for him.
But you are looking at me as
if I were q ghost!" he cried, TAX
ing her cold hands into his warm
ones, and laughing down at her.
"Just the way you did the first
night"
"Are you sure you aren't?"
She tried to laugh, too, Won
dering if her voice sounded as
strained and thin to him as it
did to her.
Before he could answer, Bird
gle, who had closed the door
again, coughed discreetly from
the hallway.
you'll excuse me, Miss De-
borah," she cried, "but l took the
liberty of havin' the grocer's boy
run the gintleman's car into the
garridge an carry his bags up
stairs. Wit this w e q Their not
KNOWN is it wind or fog twill
turn out 20 be, you'll be askin'
him for dinner an the night, !
doubt not"
The Mise Deborah" and the
unctuous Difference In Bridges
manner were assumed purely for
guest consumption. Behind Ste
phan's back. Bridges left eye
understanding. prompting, as
it used to do in Deborah's school
days: Mind yer manners, child!"
Deborah heard herself saying
obediently, "Of course, Stephan.
You know I'd love to have you"
But really, I had 10 idea" he
said hastil.... II can't"
"Ah, sure an it's no throuble
at-all at-all." Bridge dismissed
his objections with q hospitable
wave. "An' now, Miss Deborah,
I'll be maxim the Masther's room
riddy fer the Captain"
II say" Stephan, Deborah
was puzzled to see, wheeled to
look with q kind of startled con-
sternation after Bridges broad
back - "but how did she
know" He broke off, frown-
ing, shrugged, and lighted a Gig
aret.
THAT you rate the Captain?
Oh, Bridge can spot gold braid
and shoulder straps even when
they're not in the show case. ]
suppose she's developed . kind
Of sixth sense for rank fr o m
working for seagoing families
most of her life. To Bridge, hav-
ing a fine figger Of . fightin'
man as n guest Is the next thing
to entertaining royalty. -. But
does IL matter?"
81 am flattered, naturally" he
smiled; but his eyes were oil OF
q sudden guarded, watchful.
As IL, Deborah thought, he had
shut Q door In my. face.
Ito De Continued)