We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
I answered. "He — he hasn't asked me. That might be one reason."
With a little, impatient movement of one big hand, Tim said, "Oh, I know that. But it's not because he doesn't want to. How could Gene ask a girl to marry him, when he's stuck in that service station of old Searles', getting eighteen dollars a week, with no prospect of ever doing better?"
"He could ask me!" I exclaimed. "I know Gene's going to do better. Why, with his knack with machines, there's nothing he couldn't do — "
"In the right sort of town," Tim interrupted, "Gene could do plenty. But you know yourself there's no chance here in Briarton. If we had a factory here or something of that sort — But we haven't, and as long as Gene stays he'll go on working for Searles or for some other garage owner. And that isn't good enough for him."
"You think he ought to — to go away somewhere else?" I asked, trying not to let my sudden hurt and panic show in my voice.
NOPE. I don't much like the idea of separating two people in love. It's better for them to get together for good . . . No, Arda, I only thought, if you and Gene wanted to get married, there's a service station and repair shop, with a nice little apartment upstairs, out on the highway at the town limits. It's a wonderful location — the best in town, really, and the fellow that owns it is only letting it go because his wife's sick and they have to move South. Gene could build up a nice business there. He could hire a kid to pump gas and do all the repair work himself—"
Tim was animated now, talking with an enthusiasm that was infectious.
"Oh, it would be wonderful!" I breathed. "And I could fix up the apartment and it would be all our own!"
"Yes!" Tim agreed excitedly — and then caught his breath and laughed a bit shamefacedly. "You'd think it was my place, the way I talk, wouldn't you? Well, anyway — "
The bright dream had faded. "Well, anyway," I said, coming back to earth, "it's all impossible because I suppose you have to have money to buy a place like that — and money's what we haven't got."
"Oh, yes, we have," Tim said. "We've got our inheritance from Dad. I've had my share ever since I was twenty-one, and Gene will get his in a few months. I'm pretty sure 'we can borrow on the strength of it, and all together we'll have just enough."
It took me a moment to grasp his full meaning. "All together?" I said. "You mean — your share, too?"
"Yes — for a wedding present."
"Tim!" I was aghast. "You couldn't do that!"
"Why not — if I want to? I've never touched it, anyway. We'll rent the old house, and I'll take what income it brings, after taxes and upkeep. Won't be much, but it's all I'll need."
"But — I don't understand."
"A fellow doesn't need much money in the Army," Tim explained.
"In the Army!"
"That's where I've decided I want to be," he said. "I think I'll like it. And even if I didn't think so, probably I'd go in anyway ... It may not
RADIO MIRROR
Your War-Busy Hands can be Lovely
if you follow the easy Cutex Method
going tonkas ta-f^J £ *crubbtag brush.
saw a wrench or an or keeps your fingers
30 Cutex minutes a week... keep y
! Whisk off old polish w.thCutexUiy ^^
2 Deftly shape ^Aggg^nn***!"*?Emery Board and soak hog f Bemover with
4 3 Apply aoothin, Cutex g%™£^ ^ .^ | A' cotton-trapped ^^J dead, loose cuttle. to press bac£ cut.de Wje ^ ^ ^ NaJ
' 4. Dip * clear jg^a^nder nail tips.
W£te Pencil ^"fl dation and Cutex Polish.
*• Oil or !"•* N«l Cream „ ,„, ,,«,
A„ X-i^sSSffSSSii «. m
«^Ui