Radio and television mirror (Nov 1939-Apr 1940)

Hilltop House (Continued from page 20) was still straight and firmly muscled. He looked what he was — a man who had made a religion of getting what he wanted, a man of successful affairs. "Well, Bess," he said. She tried to be natural, she held out her hand and made suitable remarks — it was nice to see him again, he looked well, she was glad he was being successful. And all the while she was thinking, "What do you want? What are you going to do to me — and to Tim?" "Paul said you wanted to look at Hilltop House," she said. He gestured absently with one hand. "No — not now. I understand it's not for sale after all — so why should I waste time looking at something I can't buy?" A characteristic remark, she thought. "Then why? ..." "To see you, of course." He laid his hand on hers, in a way that was almost timid — if she hadn't known that Steve was never timid. "You're still lovely, Bess. No wonder, of course — it hasn't been so terribly long since ..." "Since you and I were in love?" she finished for him. "Since I played the fool and let you get away from me," he amended. "Bess — I suppose this must seem terribly abrupt to you, but I haven't much time — couldn't we start in again, where we left off? I've never forgotten you." THAT damnable charm of his, which could be so potent when he chose to exert it — even though you knew it was false. The thought helped her to say lightly, coldly. "Good of you to remember me, Steve. As a matter of fact, I haven't forgotten you, either — though perhaps I've remembered you for a different reason." His eyes nickered in comprehension. "Yes. You mean the boy. And Marjorie. But all that's past." "Is it?" she asked. She had control of the situation now; play her cards right and he would leave Glendale tonight and never come back. She held her knees tightly together to stop their trembling. "Steve — I never thought I'd have to tell you this. I never thought you'd force me to it. But here it is. I'm happy here. It took me a long time to get over — to get over what you did to me. But I got over it, finally. So much that I never think of you, or Marjorie, or — or the baby, any more. So will you please go away, and let me have my happiness?" She might have succeeded, then. His face, as he hesitated, was sombre. He opened his lips to speak — The door burst open, and Tim rushed in — a golden-haired cannonball of humanity, shrieking, "Tulip wouldn't let me in to see you. Miss Bess! Tell her to let me alone!" He threw his arms around her waist, clung there while Tulip, close upon his heels, tried to pry him loose. Over the miniature battle, she saw Steve's face. He was looking intently at the boy, his head thrust forward, his whole body poised as if for a spring. His eyes flashed up to meet hers, and under the sudden wonder and accusation in them she looked around the room wildly, as if seeking an escape from an impossible prison. DECEMBER, 1939 "Just listen to 'em !.. .'Afraid of a little pan of water, eh?' says Duck-Luck... 'Who's afraid?' says Hen-Pen. 'I just don't like water, the horrid kut-kut-kadacket stuff!'. . .'You chicken-hearted coward!' says he . . .'You wet smack!' says she . . . !" "Oh, stop your nonsense, Hen-Pen— it's swell once you're in! Just hold your nose and shut your eyes . . . don't you know we'll get sprinkled with lovely, downy Johnson's Baby Powder when we get out? In you go now— kersplash!" "Look, gang, here comes the Johnson's . . . hold everything! Prickly heat and chafes won't get much chance at us! And oh-h, boy— when that soft white shower comes down the small of your back, you'll get a thrill right down to your pinfeathers!" "Didn't I tell you? Everybody likes Johnson's Baby Powder. The talc in it's specially fine, and it helps keep babies comfortable as can be. It doesn't cost much, either!" JOHNSON'S BABY POWDER Johnson & Johnson, New Brunswick, N. J, 53