Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1942-05-29


we? Come and dine with US some
night. You do have to eat, don't
you?"
.On occasion. You'd be surprised
to know how often I don't!"
That was all, but she moved off
feeling that he would not come and
that, after all, perhaps Beverly had
been right. There was a stubborn
twist to his mouth, now, and he
looked definitely older, as if life had
been doing things to him. As indeed
it had.
But Chris was uncomfortable after
he left her that day. His feud was
with Staunton Lewis and his crowd,
not with his women.
The days passed rapidly toward
Christmas. The pile of slips from the
Department mounted day by day, and
there was a slow but steady increase
in the number Of his private patients.
One month Chris, going over his
books, made the surprising discovery
that nine-tenths of his cases to date
were women, and sitting back in his
office chair, he faced the fact with
something like CONSERVATION.
1t was true. Miss Andrews, the
spinster from down the street, an un-
attractive woman of fifty who be-
lieved that she was the object of de-
sire and pursuit by every man she
saw; the Howard girl, running in day
after day with imaginary ailments,
taking up his time and eliciting vlo-
lent letter of protest from her father
over the size of his bill; women talk
ing babies-babies to be, or babies
wanted: women having trouble with
their husbands; and here and there
woman really ill-this was his prac-
tice to date.
He was bitterly discounted. He
discounted or did not realize as fac
tors his youth, his good looks, his
singleness, and saw only women sit
ting across from him at his desk or
lying in their beds, women watching
him with intent and hopeful eyes.
Old and young, attractive or other
wise, but always women!
He pulled himself together. After
all, this was his apprenticeship, and
already he knew that, men or women,
often what they wanted was some
thing more than drugs and care. The
real moment came for them when,
having put away thermometer and
watch, he sat back in his chair be-
side the bed. They were rather
pathetic then he thought. This was
their hour, the one time when as to
priest they poured out their anxi-
cites and griefs and even their sins.
1t seemed long time now since he
had lived any personal life of his own,
and there were moments when he
wondered if this was all there was to
be. Then one day the issue was put
squarely up to him, and he had to de-
eide between his pride-as witness
Staunton Lewis and also a certain ten
dollar bill-and his inclination. For
the morning mail brought him sur
prise in the shape of a formal card
on which Mr.. and Mrs. Staunton Lewis
desired the pleasure of his company
at dinner on Christmas Eve, December
the twenty-fourth, at eight CLOCK.
Katie had gone to school, and Lily
was in the kitchen. He sat alone at
the cluttered table, turning the card
over in his hands. To go was to sur
render, but, after all, why not sur
render? Why not accept the friend
illness in Annie Lewis's handsome
eyes? Why not even see Beverly
again, if only to realize how remote
she was? Why-oh, why not go any
how, and damn Lewis and ali his
works!
He was enormously cheerful after
that, going up the stairs two steps
at time, running over his shirts and