Radio romances (July-Dec 1945)

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Surprise everyone: get started now, without obligation, by mailing coupon immediately to ADRIENNE 915 SHREVE BLDG., Salon E, SAN FRANCISC0.8, CAL. 102 NAME ; ADDRESS CITY STATE.. with desperate emphasis, "if you'd only explain why — " Then all the face disappeared in a blaze of excitement. Through it I heard my own voice saying, "I can explain, Roger — " "Diana!" That was Tommy, and I was glad that I couldn't see him, that I was still blind with excitement. "I can explain," I repeated. "That's why I came here — to tell you what really happened, because Tommy won't tell you. You know that he's honest; you know that if he ever did anything dishonest, he had a reason. But he won't tell you what it is, because it involves me." "Diana!" Tommy was on his feet now, and his face was dark red, not white. "Go home — " "Let her talk, Tom. I want to hear her." Roger's level voice steadied me, and it had its effect on Tommy, too. He sat down. I set the shoebox on the table, dumped it, and its glittering contents spilled out. I pushed the bills toward the men nearest me. "This is a sample of what happened," I said. "This is a sample of what I did with Tommy's money after we were married. Tommy knew I'd never had money to spend for luxuries, and he knew I loved them. He let me buy things as long as he dared — and then when he tried to stop me, I wouldn't listen. He didn't want to humiliate me by closing our charge accounts — and I went right on spending until a couple of weeks ago when he made me see that I had to stop. And then it was too late, because right after that I had a bad fall. I smashed my teeth, and that's why Tommy borrowed your money — to have my mouth fixed. He didn't steal it. He meant to pay it back, and he still means to. But he took it for me, because I needed it, not for himself — " And then all at once I was aware that my self-control was gone. My knees were shaking violently, and all the little muscles in my face seemed to have come apart, and each one was doing a crazy dance of its own. "That's all," I said in a strangled voice, and I turned and ran from the room. I was nearly home before the shattering excitement died down, and I could breathe normally again. Then all I felt was complete exhaustion, and a kind of peacefulness. Dimly, I had an idea that I'd made a melodramatic fool of myself, but it didn't matter. I knew, too, that Tommy might never forgive me for what I'd done tonight, but that didn't seem to matter, either. It would matter terribly tomorrow, but right now all that mattered was that Tommy's friends knew the truth. Surely they wouldn't prosecute him now. They could understand a man's being helpless before a greedy, extravagant wife. . . . At home, I flung myself down on the bed without bothering to undress, feeling drained and limp, but with every nerve alert for the sound of Tommy's key in the lock. It came finally after what seemed like hours, and I went weak and shaky with relief, and then tense again. Suppose Tommy had come home only to say that he was going away. Suppose — The bed springs gave; Tommy had lowered himself down beside me. I turned my head. He was lying as I lay — prone — his head turned toward me. Our eyes met and locked, and in their depths all we were was revealed — each of us with his own shame and his own remorse, and each of us with faith in the other, and love. I drew a long, wavering breath. Tommy took my hand, curled his fingers loosely, almost reverently around it. "I'm not going to jail — thanks to you, Diana." "You wouldn't have, anyway." "I'm not so sure. A couple of the boys were mad enough to see that I got there." There was a long silence, but it was the silence of understanding, and mutual thankfulness. Then Tommy said, "It won't be easy, you know. There's not only the hard work and the pinching to pay our debts and the club money, but there's. . . . The boys said they wouldn't talk, but you can't keep a secret when twenty men know it. It won't be fun for you, facing the town." "I don't care. I can face them." His fingers tightened on mine. "I may lose my job." "You'll get another." "You're sure, Diana — sure you want to go through it with me?" I didn't answer. There would be time to reassure him later. But just now it had struck me that another old dream — an old mind-picture, rather — was coming true: the picture of Diana, Tommy's wife, shabby, in a four-yearold coat. And I didn't mind at all. It was all right. Everything would always be all right, so long as we were together. Here's an easy way to send your wastebasket paper to war! 4 Cut two slit*, about * inch deep, in each side flap and •nd flap of a corrugated cardboard box. 2 Place three piece* ot cord inside the box, with their end* through the •lit*. Line the box with newipopan, plocing the newipopan on top of the cord*. Dump your waatebasket •crop* into the box and pack them down tight until the box b filled. SAVE ALL YOUR PAPER AND TURN IT IN ON COLLECTION DAY! 3 Lay a newspaper on top of the packed -down scrap*. Tie your bundle tight, lift it out , a nd your box to ■rartagom. 4 Save every scrap of paper. Serve ii and turn rt in to help win rhe War. Your waste paper isn't wife paper unlet* you waste rtt