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stopped, I sat in the telephone office looking at the big letters printed on the paper in front of me. This new knowledge excited me but scared me, too. Betty no longer dreamed of Don. She loved Jim. But I didn't know what to do about it. The fact that I alone knew of Betty's change of heart seemed to increase my responsibility.
I tore the message out of my machine and placed it in my purse. If only I knew that Jim loved Betty. Then everything would be simple. I could show him Betty's note and let them go on from there. But I didn't dare to intrude that far. I couldn't risk bruising Betty's pride in this new way.
That night when Jim and I were eating I brought up Betty's name.
"Betty's working hard," I said casually. "She practiced a long time this afternoon."
"She's smart and knows what she wants," Jim said, and his quiet face told me nothing.
"Yes, she knows what she wants," I repeated.
"She's the career girl type — she's got brains," he went on.
"CHE has brains," I agreed, "but she ^ isn't the career girl type. She's young and soft and warm."
"She's pretty all right."
"Jim," I began hesitantly. Then I plunged right in. "What if you knew she was in love with you?"
Jim's face wasn't closed now — it was eager and responsive and warm.
"Why — do you mean that — " and then he interrupted himself, and his face got tight again. "She isn't. She told me she couldn't fall in love again."
"Words aren't everything," I insisted.
"Betty's through with love," Jim said finally. "We discussed that thoroughly. She's had her taste of love — and so have I. You see where it got us!"
"But, Jim," I argued, but he wasn't listening. He looked back at me before he walked out the door. "Don't go getting any romantic notions in your head," he said. "Betty can't see me for dust."
After he had gone, I sat quietly for a long time pondering this knot in the love affair I had started. In spite of what Jim had said, I believed more than ever that he and Betty were meant for each other. I smiled when I remembered his face when I had surprised him with a statement about Betty's feeling for him. I was sure that Jim wanted Betty's love — but he was afraid to talk to her about it for fear of being hurt. That's what I wanted to believe, but I couldn't be sure. Suddenly, however, I knew that I couldn't stop now that I had gone this far. I had to see this thing through. And I knew immediately what I must do. Some way I must get Betty's teletyped note to Jim. I had to take the chance even if it might mean embarrassment to them. I knew that they needed each other desperately, and that their coming together would be right.
I took the note to the drug store and mailed it to Jim by special delivery. He would believe that she had typed off the note and sent it to him because she loved him and wanted him to know about it. Whether this would please him I could not know until I watched his reaction to the letter.
I didn't get up when the doorbell rang at 7:30 the next morning. I lay very still and listened while Jim went to the door and talked to the postman and went back to his room. I suppose I must have prayed while he was reading that letter. I know I cried.
Isn't it funny how footsteps can have