Radio Mirror: The Magazine of Radio Romances (Jan-June 1943)

Both know work is pleasanter with Beech-Nut Gum Anti-aircraft unit or submarine crew, the needs of our men in the services come first... and from time to time there may be temporary shortages in civilian supplies of Beech-Nut Gum due to many restrictions made necessary by the war. So please be patient if there are times when your dealer is unable to supply you with your favorite Beech-Nut Gum. Army Photos courtesy U. S. Signal Corps Beech-Nut Gum The yellow package . . . with the red oval lovely little foot and had insisted upon them. "Connie looks better in simple things." It was Helen who had had dancing lessons. "We'll wait until you're a little older, Connie. Until you — well, learn to handle yourself a little better." Maybe if you'd asserted yourself long ago, Connie, I told myself, angrily, life wouldn't all have been Helen, Helen, Helen! Well, perhaps it still wasn't too late. At least I was going to have an awfully good try! I sailed into work the next morning with my head high, and before I could lose my nerve, I sailed right on into Victor's office. He looked up and smiled. "Hello, Connie. Where on earth were you last night? I dropped by and waited some time for you. Your sister and I had quite a chat. Lord, she's a beautiful little thing, isn't she?" I couldn't wait to answer him. If I stopped to think about his meeting with Helen, I would lose my newfound courage. So I plunged desperately ahead. "I'm sorry I missed you," I said, and added hurriedly, "Let's make up for it by having dinner tonight instead." XJIS eyebrows shot up to give his -" face that endearing look of quizzical surprise. The twinkle flickered in his eyes for a moment and was gone. "Why of course," he agreed. "Where shall I meet you?" I shook my head. "Call for me at home. About seven?" He nodded with satisfaction. "About seven," and turned back to the papers on his desk. But as I walked out of the office, I felt his eyes following me. I felt a little bold, and a little shaky — but oh, so terribly determined! That afternoon I told what I considered a completely forgivable lie. I said I had a headache and asked to leave the office early. But I didn't go home. I went first to the bank and then to Monsieur Paul, the most expensive hairdresser in town. "Give me everything," I had told the girl on the phone that morning when I'd made the appointment. I didn't look at myself until Paul's deft fingers had put the finishing touches on my hair, until a Miss Eloise had wrought a miracle with makeup, until a Miss Jeanette had changed my office-grubby fingernails to shining ruby ovals. And then a completely different person looked back at me from the mirror. My dark hair was piled high on my head; my skin had taken on a sun-warmed tone; a touch of blue above my eyes had made them larger and darker and somehow mysterious. My mouth was full, deeply red and luscious — not Miss Prim's mouth. I was satisfied. I was no longer Miss Prim at all. Neither was I Connie Marshall. I was — well, I was someone new and exciting. I felt as though I had just been born, with the whole world ahead of me. At Chez Marie I bought a dress that was like a stroke of ink on white paper, dead black, dramatic, Helen's kind of dress, and to go with it a sleek little cap of black feathers with a crimson feather flower that reflected the flame of my courage. What can I say about that evening? It was right, so very right, as I came down the stairs to meet the amazement in Victor's eyes. And then, there was the first tiny note of warning. Victor's glance left me, and his eyes met Helen's, which had been staring at me in equal amazement. What was it that flickered between them for the breadth of a second? What did they understand between them that left me out? Whatever it was, I was determined not to let it touch me. This night was mine. But it wasn't mine at all. It belonged to the girl I created out of a black dress and a hat with a red feather, out of a cake of rouge and the sweep of a mascara brush. It belonged to a stranger to Victor, and he treated her as a stranger. He held her in his arms as he danced with her, but they were a million miles apart. We left the Coq Noir early. We had never left there before until the lights had dimmed and the orchestra had put its instruments away. There was still the ride home, a last chance for me. There was nothing for me to say. I had said all of the little empty things. How do some women fill a lifetime with words like that? I knew only that I was losing Victor, and that there was but one thing left to try. I moved closer to him and sunk my teeth into my lip to control the terrible shivering that the touch of him sent through me. But there was no response in him. He did not move away, but neither did he take his eyes from the road. As the car stopped before our house, I turned my face up to his. "Goodnight, Victor." They were soft little words, and there was no mistaking the invitation that went with them. After a moment, he accepted it. I had dreamed about this kiss, this first kiss between us, but there was no relation between the dream and the reality. Victor's mouth was firm and cool; his kiss was as formal as the how do you do exchanged when strangers meet. TTHEN he opened the door on his side x of the car and came around to let me out. Numbly, I went up the walk to the house, Victor behind me. Helen was sitting on the glider. To her he said good evening; to me he said good night. If there was to be more, I couldn't wait for it. I ran up the stairs to hide from myself in the shadows of my room. In the bitter silence there was only the sound of Victor's car driving off. Sick with misery, I crouched in the fenmjlOise saps... "Precaution Pays Patriotic Dividends' DUT those new kid gloves in a damp towel for an hour before the first wearing. This will make the kid more pliable and help guard against splitting. In wartime, every article in your wardrobe must last longer! Spend less. Buy WAR BONDS AND STAMPS. Uncle Sam needs your help to meet his QUOTA for war costs.