Radio romances (July-Dec 1945)

'The Touches of Her Hands, and the Delightl James Whitcomb Riley We bet the lady never "touched" household Drudgery! Housework can make your hands look like anything but a poet's dream. Rough, red, older-looking than you are. So be sure to use Pacquins Hand Cream twice daily to help give your hands a "young-skin" look. Ask your Doctor or his NlirSe ab0Ut ... how they keep their hands in good condition in spite of 30 to 40 washings a day. Harder on hands than housework! Pacquins Hand Cream was originally formulated for their professional use. Here's the secret — it's super-rich in what doctors call "humectant"— an ingredient that helps keep skin feeling soft, smooth, supple! 86 AT ANY DRUG. DEPARTMENT. OR TEN-CENT STORE (Continued from page 84) That's all, and no sense kidding yourself. But he did seem pleased to see me. I had to admit that. And he seemed more pleased when the business session ended and he came over to shake my hand. It was as though we were old school friends, meeting again after many years. I looked fine, he said. How was my trip from Worth City? Was I staying at the Commodore, too? I liked it when he said "too." That meant he was staying there. And when we all went in for cocktails he accompanied me. That was just as it was planned. But I denied it to myself. I pretended it was all a fine surprise. Now cocktails are something I had always avoided. Nothing wrong with them, mind you. But somehow my background did not include that phase of sociability; besides, somebody told me they put on weight and that was something I had to avoid. I had some ginger ale and I watched Barnsley order a scotch and soda. I couldn't quite make up my mind about him until a minute later when a boisterous salesman from a linen company brushed past us and spied Barnsley. "Why, Geller, you old rascal," he roared as though he had discovered a three-legged bird. "Geller with a drink in his hand. Say! This must be an occasion. I never thought I'd live to see the day. . . . Hey, Ned! Tom! Look what I found. Geller having a drink." IN AN instant there were four or five men around us, laughing and kidding Barnsley. He seemed composed but I thought I detected a hint of patience in his "demeanor, as though he were used to being kidded by his rivals among the salesmen. And I noticed he wouldn't take another drink although the men tried to force one upon him. The conversation grew livelier all the time and finally the men asked Barnsley and me to join them at dinner. Now that was where I made my mistake, I guess. I said I had made other plans for the evening, which wasn't true. At any rate, the upshot of it was that Barnsley went off with the crowd and I went to my room. For a little while I puttered around, finding small things to do, trying to make up my mind whether I was hungry or not. Then I put on my coat and went out. I couldn't stand being in that room alone any longer. I went down in the elevator and walked out on Lexington Avenue, looked for a place where I could get dinner. I don't know how long I walked, but eventually I found a little Italian restaurant in the fifties. The place was crowded and I was lucky to get a table. "Madam is alone?" the waiter asked significantly. "Yes, alone." I never felt lonelier than at that moment. The conversation of the cocktail crowd at the convention still sounded in my ears and I wondered where Barnsley and his friends had gone. I wanted to be with them, not alone in a restaurant with a lot of strangers. This wasn't what I planned at all. I hardly ate my dinner, and when I had a chance to pay the check I got out and took a taxi back to the Commodore. The hotel lobby was crowded with more strangers. I didn't see one person from the convention and once again I felt left out of things. I went to bed. Despite the depressing night before, I felt better in the morning. The meetings were spirited and educational for