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m not going to tell Mom, that's what you're worried about," Cissie cried as she rushed out.
out of reach, trying to quiet the response that still cried out to him.
Carl watched me. "Don't try to fight it, Connie. You love me. You know you do."
"But I don't know!" 1 cried. "I'm
all mixed up — I don't know anything. Just — please don't touch me. Don't kiss me again, I beg of you."
"Is it Jim?" he said finally.
I nodded, unable to speak.
"I'm not trying to make love to an
When a woman is lonely, she's like a patient with no resistance to disease — that's what the kind old doctor told her. Was this why Connie let Carl Haggard fall in love with her?
other man's wife behind his back. I'm in love with you, you — you've filled my life since that night at the canteen. I knew you were married and I tried to forget you. But when you got me the room at the Ruells', and I saw you every day, I knew it was fate and there was no use trying to forget. You love me, too. Maybe your words can deny it — but your kiss can't."
"I can't be sure," I whispered brokenly. "I — I'm scared. There's always been — just Jim."
"But these things happen, Connie — "
"Oh, don't! I tell you, I'm not sure. And I've got to be. Please go, Carl."
"You mean go and not come back, is that what you want?"
It was as if he were torturing me. "I don't know what I want with you standing there looking at me," I cried hysterically. "You've got to give me time to think, to decide. You've got to go!"
His face tightened angrily and I knew he, too, was suffering. Without a word he picked up his cap and started for the door. One word from me would stop him, bring him back. I couldn't say it.
"Okay, I'll go. But when you do make up your mind what you want, make it up for good. I won't go through this any more."
Then he was gone, out into the bright Sunday sunshine that looked so calm and peaceful.
There was no calm or peace for me that afternoon. The apartment was suddenly unbearable, as if the walls were imprisoning me as closely as the confusion of my thoughts. I threw on a ligljt wrap, hurried down the stairs, and began to walk — as if I'd been driven to escape.
"Jim?" I whispered. "Jim?" I longed to summon him there beside me, walking our well-known streets, that I might sort out all this confusion and be sure again that I loved only him. But he wouldn't come.
Then I realized a strange and frightening thing. Not only couldn't I see him there — I couldn't see him at all! Anywhere. I knew his eyes were bright blue. I knew what his hair looked like when the sun was on it, and that he was exactly six feet tall. But I couldn't put them, all together; I couldn't remember his face. Jim had become, quite (Continued on page 73)
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