Detroit evening times. (Detroit, Mich) 1921-1958, 1941-03-09

IL rue OOWn 10 fhlCHiIlOfO Will
you. l can catch the afternoon
plane back. There are a lot of
things I've been saving up to tell
you over this weekend"
And won't they wait until Oc-
tober? Or would you forget them
by that time? You'll slow me
down, Haynes. l don't like to
drive and talk. Please 60 on
home to your little lambs"
Move over then and I'll drive
myself. / can talk. whistle. do
crossword puzzles. clean a pipe
or play a harmonica and still
hold her in the road"
And they follow you with
screaming sirens. picking up the
shattered pedestrians"
II never shattered a pedestrian
in my life"
I'll drive, ] think, II you insist
on going. And if what you have
to say bores me ! can always
sing"
He got in, leaving the yellow
car at the curb. He had the as
sured and casual air of all her
mothers friends. There was a
NO Parking" sign at the curb
thanking the radiator Of his car.
there was a grey wall Of polite
indifference yelling the pansy
blue Of Rosemary's eyes, but he
was superbly Indifferent to both
signs.
He would always be superbly
Indifferent to anything that
frustrated or restricted him. He
got what he wanted eventually
And this rusty-haired daughter
of feather Drained Vicki Mallard
had an acid, cool allure that was
sharply refreshing to him after
several rather feverish adven-
lures.
AT the end of the bridge over
the Potomac I'm going to kiss
you" he announced calmly" and
at the top Of the hill going into
Falmouth you'll fall in love with
me-and at the end Of the bridge
over the Rappahannock-"
AT the end of the bridge over
the Rappahannock I'll open the
door and push you out! And you
can lie there. my dear egotistic
young idiot. till somebody comes
along and picks you up on
shutter"
I'm too long for a shutter.
My feet would hang over"
oh well, a barn door would
do. And I'm not going 10 fall in
love with you, Haynes. my pet.
You nor anybody else"
U\Y/HY the peculiarly singing
w infection? Have you been
singed. my little bird? DO l
smell burning feathers ,"
You smell the engine tuning
because l forgot to have the an
ti-freeze drained out. And that's
not rancor or sour grapes. It's
sense. ! want to be free, Haynes.
I'm no little bird - perhaps
I'm a sea-gull or a blue heron
something lone and independent
and solitary. flying out into the
sunset And you mightaas well
get out here. really. You can
take a taxi back and save
money"
Why should l save money?
The thing l want isn't for sale"
Not If you have me listed
among the things you want"
You're an odd little thing.
Rosemary. There's so much Bit
ter in you, and so much that's
sweet. You were invented by
French bartender with the soul
of a poet and head full or an
archy and rebellion. You should
be served up in green glasses
with thin, hollow stems. | could
get gloriously drunk on a drink
like that"
You mean, in a green bottle,
don't you? With a red skull and
cross bones >on it? All this is
no use at all. Haynes" she
reached across his knee and
opened the door. slowing at the
curb, Please go? And good-by.
Think kindly of me, won't you.
when you look at the little
lambs? ?"
He got out slowly You're a
lady with a heart like a rock,
aren't you? You have vinegar
for blood and your soul, if ever
you got it out into the light,
would look like a little dried
prune. But for all your obstina-
cy. I'm crazy about you, my darl-
ing. The thing can't under
stand is how you were ever
born Vicki Mallard's daughter"
That's what mother can't I'M
derstand either Good-bv HAYNES