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

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The guaranteed trial offer protects you. 82 I hushed his questions with halftruths. If I told him all of it, Julian might tell — and then Jed would take him away. In my panic, I knew I would do anything — anything — to keep that from happening. At the office, next morning, I heard through the faculty grapevine, that the board of trustees was meeting that afternoon to discuss a way of making money for the college. I wanted to cry out, "Don't do it! Don't listen to Jed Clinton!" But I couldn't. All during the day I felt Andy's eyes on me with that puzzled look. I tried to avoid it, to keep away from anything but the business at hand. Finally he cornered me. "Something's on your mind, Alma. You've looked positively scared all day. It isn't the new job, is it?" "Oh, no. It's nothing, Andy — really." "But it is. You're not yourself. Can't you tell me?" I felt a wild, hysterical desire to laugh. I could picture how startled he might look if I suddenly said, "I've lied to you. I've lied to everybody. I'm not a widow and that man's not my cousin. He's my husband and a crook! And you have to help me because I'm in love with you and want to marry you!" "You're not worried about Julian, are you?" he persisted. "I'm just a little tired, that's all. Now about these term papers — " How could I explain? He'd never given me the right to explain. He'd never said he loved me — maybe I'd only imagined it because I loved him so. If he found out now, like this, I might lose him for good. It was that night that Jed came again. He breezed in, as if he belonged there, confident and jubilant. "It's in the bag," he announced. "Fuller may be a hick in a jerkwater college, but he moves fast. I've already met with the board and they're meeting again Sunday for the final decision. It looks like I'll be in the chips again and then — aren't you glad you played ball with me, Alma, like a sensible little girl?" "I've never played ball with you! I've kept quiet because I've had to and I hate myself for doing it. Now go away and leave me alone." HE let the door swing half shut behind him and came further into the room. He laughed softly. "How you've changed! You used to be a soft little thing, like a kitten, all big eyes and scared of your life. I like you better this way." "Well, I'm not scared any more," I lied. "And I don't like you. Will you please go?" He dropped his coat on the couch and walked over to me. "What a way for a wife to talk. Such a pretty wife, too — " His eyes flickered over me — "in that blue dress, and your skin soft and white, and your mouth — " I backed away from him. "If you don't get out of here this minute I'll—" "You seem to forget — " his hands reached out and jerked me toward him — "I'm still your husband." He held me so I couldn't move and forced my head back. For just one hateful instant his lips were on mine. And then a voice spoke from the doorway. "I seem to be intruding." Jed released me and whirled around. Andy stood in the half-open door. His face was pale and tight. I seemed rooted where I stood. Inwardly I was pleading with Andy to understand, not to judge me, and all the time frantically aware of how it must have looked. In another man's arms. . . . Hastily I crossed the room, pushed Andy out, pulled the door to behind me. "Andy, I— I—" "I just came by to tell you," he said in a perfectly dead voice, "That it won't be necessary for you to come into the office tomorrow. I'm going out of town for a few days. I've arranged for someone else to meet my classes if I'm not back by Monday. I'm sorry if I came at an inopportune time." "Don't say that! Please understand, Andy. It's—" "I think I understand. Good night." He went down the walk without looking back. rpHE next two days were the most * wretched of my life. With Andy gone — and in the middle of a term, too, with no hint of a reason to anyone— all hope of any explanation to him seemed gone, too, for good. I spent the time alone as much as possible, away even from Julian who was too full of curiosity about Jed and why he was here. I walked for miles along the quiet New England roads, in the biting wind, trying to fight my way out of the trap that had closed in on me. A trap, I knew now, mostly of my own making. If I had been strong enough to tell the truth long ago and taken whatever consequences came of it, instead of being lulled by a false sense of security, all this couldn't have happened. Even when Jed first came — if I'd told then. But there had been Julian to protect. Always, there had been Julian. Jed, I thought bitterly, was wrong when he'd said I was different. I was still a "soft little thing . . . afraid of my life." And, as a result, I'd lost everything. I had to sit by and see Jed go through with his scheme. I'd lost Andy, and I was once more completely at the mercy of the man I'd married. When I got back to the house that Sunday afternoon, Jed was there with Julian. The boy's face looked flushed and angry, and Jed wore his smile of amused detachment. (enmjIDise says... "Pledge Your Pennies For Victory" NEVER iron terry cloth towels. The iron flattens the loops — might catch and rip. If you send them to a laundry, ask for "fluff" or "tumble" dry. Ironing lessens absorbency too, so you're apt to rub harder on the towels and wear them out more quickly. Save on the household budget. Spend less. Help your state and country meet their WAR BOND QUOTA for Victory. Invest in War Bonds and Stamps. RADIO MIRROR