The Wilmington Morning Star

Andrea would turn up there. And
Jim, too. She was beginning to
feel haunted and determined, at
any cost, to get away. Maybe,
when the war was over-the war
that was already inevitable- -she'd
make her way to California.

Then, thinking of California, she
thought of Vernon. If she married
Vernon, who hadn't yet asked her,
she would be free to make another
life for herself. Whatever Jim and
Andrea did, wherever they might
live, would be no threat to her,
and she would be forever rid of
the loneliness that frightened her
when she thought of the future.

She went to sleep thinking of
Vernon's nice boyish face. of his
enthusiasm when he talked about
that garage back home, and was
almost ready to imagine herself
living in a stucco bungalow, rais-
ing oranges in the land where al-
legedly the rain never fell.

That was on Thursday night.
On Saturday she came home,
planning to wash her hair and putter about doing innumerable
things that were left over from
a busy week.

She rifled through the slips on
the telephone stand in the hall
where messages were left for the
girls. There was one from Vernon
saying that he'd call for her at
six, and one from Andrea saying
that she'd gone to Eunice Sec-
combe's apartment and was spend-
ing the week-end there. She left
word that she'd telegraphed Jim
to meet her there. Eunice could
put him up.

Beth put down the slip, thankful
that she would be spared seeing
him.

And heard her name called.

Jim stood in the doorway of the
living room.

She hadn't seen him since the
January night when he'd gone
back to camp. And she loved him
so much it hurt.

"Hello, darling," he said. "What
have you done to yourself .that
makes you so pretty?"

"Absence makes the heart grow
fonder," she told him. "I'm the
same old Beth."

"Don't ever change, darling."

"I will if I can," she said pas-
sionately. "Have you seen An-
drea?"

(To Be Continued)