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

■ II III I i\ Glamorous h HAIR Makes You looli Mary Beth Hughes, lovely 20th Century-Fox star in "Ox Bow Incident", uses GLOVER 'S. HOLLYWOOD teaches you to look lovelier with GLOVER'S famous MEDICINAL treatment, with massage, for Dandruff, Itchy Scalp and excessive Falling Hair. You'll feel the exhilarating effect, instantly! Ask for GLOVER'S at any Drug Store. Send today for this Complete Trial Application of GLOVER'S famous Mange Medicine and the new GLO-VER Beauty Soap Shampoo, in hermetically sealed bottles. Test the Glover's Medicinal Treatment, yourself ! Complete instructions and booklet, "The Scientific Care of Scalp and Hair," included FREE ! Send the Coupon today ! GLOVER'S, with massage, for DANDRUFF, ITCHY SCALP ' Excessive FALLING HAIR * G L O V E R'S "'.•;• GLOVER'S, 101 W. 31st St., Oept.556, New York City Send Trial Package, Glover's Mange Medicine and GLO-VER SHAMPOO, in hermetlcally-sealed bottles, and Informative booklet. I enclose 25c. Name Address FILM DEVELOPED 124-HOUR SERVICE Your Choice: 16 regular-size prints or 8 double-size (nearly postcard size) from your 8-exposure roll or negatives. WILLARD STUDIOS • Dept. 11 • CLEVELAND. OHIO 25 The Dennison Handy Helper says: "IF IT'S TORN -MEND IT WITH .TRANSPARENT MENDING TAPE" Mailing Labels • Shipping Tags » Index Tabs Gummed Reinforcements »Pres*a-f»ly Labels Crepe Paper • Gummed Labels DENNISON MFG. CO., rVamlnghem, Mass. BeYour Own MUSIC Teacher LEARN AT HOMF liv wonderful improved Lt"1111 **■ riVITIt method. Simple as A-B-C. Your lessons consist of real selections, instead of tiresome exercises. You read real notes — no "numbers" or trick music. Many of our 700,000 students are band LEADERS. Everything is in print and pictures. First you are told what to do. Then a picture shows you how. Soou you may become an excellent musician. Mail coupon for our illustrated Free Booh and Print and Picture Sample. Mention your favorite instrument. Instruments supplied when needed, cash or credit. U. S. School of Music, 3066 Brunswick Bldg,, N. Y. C. U. S. School of Music, 3066 Brunswick Bldg.T"N^"vT"c! Please send me Free Booklet and Print and Picture Sample. I would like to play (Name Instrument). 74 Name (Please Print) Address they didn't last longer? That evening, and part of the day that followed, were filled with a shining kind of loveliness for me. I was back in the little home I had created, and Gene was sweet and thoughtful. The future stretched away into an infinity of perfection. We had come safely through the first great test of our life together, and we had come through unharmed. The next morning, at breakfast, Gene announced that he was going uptown for an hour or so — "Don't throw anything!" he added, laughing. "It's business, and I've got a kid coming in to mind the station while I'm gone." I laughed too. For the loneliness of the times when Gene had left me to care for the station, the tragic afternoon when I lost our child, the dull agony of the days since then, when I had come so near to leaving Gene — all these seemed like parts of a bad dream now. Oh, I was so blissfully sure of myself, and of Gene! JUST before he left Gene said mysteriously, "And if you're very good, I may bring back a surprise for you. A really big surprise, so don't try to guess." But I did try, while I went about the work of cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Flowers, candy, maybe something to wear — a new dress or some underthings. Not that it really mattered, my heart sang. The wonderful thing was that Gene loved me so much that he wanted to bring me a gift, a surprise . . . It was nearly noon when Gene returned. He came up the stairs whistling and burst open the door. I came out of the kitchen to meet him, expecting to find him with a big box of some sort in his arms. But instead he was holding out a little booklet to me, saying, "Here's the surprise!" "What in the world — " I said, but he wiggled his hand impatiently. "Look at it!" It was our bank-book, and when I looked inside I saw that the last entrjr, round and neat, was for one thousand dollars. "But what — how — " I looked uncomprehendingly from the book to Gene's beaming face. "I've sold the station!" he announced. "Signed the papers this morning, and that's the first payment you've got in your hand. There'll be more coming in every month." "You've — " This couldn't be true. He wouldn't have taken a step like this without talking it over with me! But he had. I sank down onto the nearest chair, but he didn't even notice. Pacing the room excitedly, he talked as if he could never find words enough to express his glee. "I just thought things over and I made up my mind to get out of this back-breaking business. Slave all day long and where does it get you? So I went up and saw Velten at the bank and it was lucky I did because just the day before he'd been talking to an oil firm that wanted to buy a station in a good spot here. We got down to business and — well, there's the money." I sat there listening, saying nothing, just looking around the little room. Everything was going to be different, Gene had promised the night before. I managed to ask, "How much did you sell it for?" — and at once Gene was on the defensive. "Well — we had to take a little loss, it figures out to about eight hundred dollars, but I decided it was worth it to get rid of the place. It was driving me nuts, Arda!" he insisted vehemently. "I'm just not cut out for this kind of work. It may be all right for some guys, but not for me. Never a minute you can call your own, and you have to get down on your hands and knees to everybody that drives in to make a nickel — " I hardly knew what he was saying, because I was terribly afraid I might cry. These three little rooms— they weren't much, maybe, but they'd been mine, mine! He had no right to take them away from me, without even a word. I choked back the lump in my throat. "But what are we going to do now?" I asked. "Where are we even going to live?" "I don't see that we have to do anything right away," Gene said sulkily. "We've got money in the bank and more coming in, and we can afford to look around until I find a job that looks good to me. And as for a place to live, we can move back into the old house." "The old house?" It took me a moment to realize that he meant the Gorman house, where he and his brother Tim had lived. "But that's rented." "Not any longer. I told the Petersons this morning that we'd want the place ourselves, so they'll be getting out the first of the month. Until then, I guess we can stay with your family, unless — " with heavy sarcasm— "you think they'd object?" * Suddenly, rage swept through me, drying up the threatened tears. How dared he ride rough-shod over me over Tim, his brother, over the Petersons and over anyone who stood in his way? "You can't do that," I said in a voice I couldn't control. "The rental from that house is the only income Tim has besides his Army salary." "Well, we can go on paying him the same rent, can't we?" he demanded. UE was glowering down on me now, but my anger gave me strength to fling his stare back at him. I knew, deep within me, that he had no intention of paying Tim the same rent, or any rent at all — just as he had never had any intention of paying back the money Tim had given us to help buy the service station in the first place. He had sold the station as if it were all his own to dispose of, morally as well as legally. Now he would take the house in the same way. And Tim — dear, easy-going Tim — wouldn't object. He'd say it didn't matter, he didn't need the money anyway. Gene fished a package of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and flipped the match, with a childish petulance, onto the floor. "Good Lord!" he said, "the main reason I got rid of the station was so we could have a decent life. I thought you'd be pleased. And now you're acting as if — as if I'd just robbed a bank or something." I wanted to say, "You're lying." He had always known I would not want him to sell the station. That was why he had built the news up as a surprise, as something delightful and gay. He'd pretended to think he was doing something I would like, and now he was pretending to be hurt and angry because I didn't. I had thought he would change. But he never would, never — never. He would not grow up. He would forever do as he pleased, without re