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reason. Tactfully, he just patted it, and withdrew his own. "Oh, dearest," he said. "I don't know what to say. I'd rather cut my hand off than have you even a little dissatisfied, but I don't see how ... I just didn't plan on moving, or doing without you in the lab."
It was almost as if he'd said I didn't plan on making so drastic a change in my life. I only planned to marry you, and go on as before. I fought down a sudden, unreasonable pang. Jim didn't mean that, I knew. He was only shaken by his first deep cleavage we had discovered— as I was. Upset by the revelation that in spite of our closeness we could be so very far apart on so very important a question . . .
It was our first important difference; it could be settled, one way or another. But I felt as though a shadow had fallen on my heart. When I woke up next morning Merrimac wasn't singing anymore. It was a pleasant, quiet town, where I hoped to live happily for many years, but the fairy-tale glow had been turned off. My mood, skittish and unreliable, was turning downward after its weeks of playing around in the stratosphere.
"It's healthier this way," I kept telling myself as I checked off Saturday chores on a list I carried from room to room. "Feet on the ground. Quarreling— everybody does it. vou're only human, better face it." After several cups of coffee I felt better, and when I had phoned Mrs. CoUins and to1^ her to go ahead on one of the dresses Francie and I had seen the day before. I felt almost normal again. At the back of my mind was a dim, sore feeling, but it was very dim indeed. It would go away if I ignored it. And if I never again reached the peak of elation on which I'd been living — well, it would be better for a doctor's wife to be a more sober-seeming individual anyway.
Nonetheless, when the phone rang that afternoon my heart zoomed wildly as I ran for it. It was Jim.
"Maggie? Listen — I've only got a minute. I wanted to tell you — wait a minute." There was an indistinct murmur; then his voice returned. "Francie wants me to tell you it's a surprise. Would you rather have it that way?"
"Oh, bother Francie," I muttered. "Tell me now!"
Jim laughed. "I'll give her your message. Oh, Maggie, I feel ten years younger than I did last night! By the way — how are you?"
I gritted my teeth in exasperation. "Jim — will you tell me?"
"Okay. All right. I've got it for you, Maggie. The key. The house. Your heart's desire."
"Jim . . . ?"
"I mean it. I did my thinking, and the end result was that I got all the dope from Francie this morning and went over and settled with your little lady. She's a wonder, by the way. And so's the house, darling. Just right."
"Do you mean it? You really liked it as much as I did?"
"Loved it. Oh, and Maggie — something else." He was interrupted by a scuffling noise, and then Francie's voice came over the phone, breathless and laughing, saying, "No — this I will tell her myself. Maggie? What — what do you think — Butch is coming home!"
"Francie, that's wonderful. When dear?"
"In about four and a half minutes, judging from this cable. Well, actually what he says is he wants to get back for the baby — you know, when it comes —
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