Radio romances (July-Dec 1945)

the animals, when he came. And it seemed natural and simple and right for him to come in with a brief hello, take off his coat, and begin to help me — hampered somewhat by the leaping Cassy, who was frantic with joy at seeing him again. "Miss me?" he asked, as he scooped down into the big bag of dog food. And then, without giving me a chance to answer, "Well, Cassy did anyway, didn't you, old girl? What are you going to mix this stuff with, Penny — water?" I shook my head. "No, broth. There's a big pot of it on the kitchen stove — want to get it for me?" He went out, and in a moment he was back, the big kettle held with two pot holders. "This is a really swell arrangement, Penny," he said, as he poured broth over the dry meal. "The shop, I mean — your living quarters upstairs, the shop here, and that huge back yard. That could be fixed up with some really good runs, and you could accommodate a lot more dogs to board. I wish I had a place like it," he added, and I heard his voice going on about his plans for a new and larger hospital-kennel, but I didn't hear the words. It could be fixed up — that was what Ken and I had said so often, so enthusiastically, to each other. The plans— the beautiful, happy, wonderful plans — for a future that never came! I leaned against the wall, suddenly sick, and closed my eyes. I heard Phil drop the big wooden spoon, stride across the room to me. "Penny — is anything the matter?" SHAKING my head, I tried to smile at him. "No, nothing — nothing's wrong." But even in my own ears the words sounded false, hopeless, defeated, just as I felt myself. I felt his hand, gently under my chin, tilting my head up. "Open your eyes, Penny — Penny, open your eyes, because it's not nice to sneak up on a girl and kiss her when she isn't looking. And I'm going to kiss — " My eyes flew open, my hands instinctively flew up to fend him off. "No, Phillip, no . . . no. . . ." But perhaps I didn't even say the words aloud. And I learned, then, that just as your voice never forgets the ways of laughter, your feet the pattern of dancing, just so do your lips, once they have known the joy of a lover's kiss, never forget the kissing. ... It was long and deep, that kiss, like cool water after a great thirst, like bread after a terrible hunger — and strangely, incredibly sweet. Strangely, because I forgot for a moment the identity of the kisser. It wasn't that I tried to pretend that once again, for a brief, unbelievable moment, I was back in Ken's arms. But I didn't, either, think of Phillip's lips on mine. It was simply that I was being kissed, sweetly, satisfyingly, and that, for a moment, was enough, and I felt my own welcoming lips responding. But the moment was fleeting, the sweetness quickly bitter. My hands, stopped in mid-gesture a minute before, found his shoulders to push him away. "Phillip — oh, Phil — !" He tried to make me laugh. "Penny, you're an enchanted lady, a sleeping beauty, sound asleep behind a wall too high for me to climb. I thought a kiss might waken you, might unlock the gate." I shook my head. "Phil — you'll have to understand. Never, never, can you and I — can we — have anything like that. I told you about my husband, and how we loved this place, and what Wilma sold war bonds in all *. kinds of weather 6atH0LD-80B pins held ner hair-do together • Why is a bobby pin? To hold your hair — smoothly, firmly, invisibly. . . that's the way GAYLA HOLD-BOB bobby pins are made: for longer-lasting, springy power. Remember, only HOLD-BOBS have those small, round, invisible heads, satiny finish and the round ed-for-safety ends. That's why hold-bobs are America's favorites. Look for, ask for the gayla hold-bob card. Copyright 1945 Gaylerd Products, Incorporated Chicago 16, Illinois HOLD-BOB "The bobby pins that HOLD'1 77