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"Are you hurting someone else?" her conscience prompted, hut Elizabeth knew only that her greatest need was to be near Bill, to have the shelter of his arms
As I got off the bus the rain which had been pouring steadily cdl day suddenly ceased. Dark clouds scudded overhead, then vanished into thin smoky wisps and in their place the sky was filled with the gold of the setting sun. I raised my head, moved by the beauty of the flashing colors, and involuntarily my spirits lifted. Per
haps the sunset, driving the storm away, was a good omen for me. Perhaps it meant that my own storm of worry was to end. I walked on again, faster than before. Surely, my heart sang, this would be my lucky day, the day when I would find waiting for me a letter offering me one of the innumerable jobs for which I had been inter
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viewed during the past few weeks.
I hurried through the lobby of the Hotel Woolford, "the homelike hotel for young women of refinement" which, though not quite so homelike as its advertisements promised, had been the only home I'd known since I'd said goodbye to mom and dad and left to come to the capital city of our state. At the desk I could hardly restrain my excitement for there was mail for me. I could see a number of letters in my mailbox at the back of the desk.
The gray-haired clerk smiled when he reached back for my key and the letters. Then he paused, holding the letters just out of reach. "You know," he said chattily, "you're the second Elizabeth Adams we've had as our guest." He paused and said, "Yes sir, the first one moved out just a little while before you came."
I smiled in answer, hoping that if I just nodded and didn't speak he would give up his attempt to be sociable and give me the letters he still held. Finally, when he saw I wasn't going to join him in his gossiping, he put the mail in my hand and I turned toward the elevator, scarcely hearing his final words.
As soon as I reached my room I tore the envelopes open feverishly, only to toss them aside one by one. The letters to which I had looked forward so hopefully consisted of circulars from neighborhood beauty and dress shops, a price list from the laundry on the corner and a printed announcement of current films at the movie theater in the next block — the usual collection of uninteresting and meaningless advertisements which are stuffed indiscriminately into hotel mail boxes.
It had started to rain again and the drumming of the storm against the window brought back my earlier dejection. For the first time I began to wonder if coming to this city had been a mistake. I had been so confident that morning nearly a month ago when I had left the small town in which I had always lived, so positive that here I would find the opportunity for a successful business career which I
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