Radio and television mirror (Nov 1939-Apr 1940)

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Many physicians have prescribed Pertussin, a safe and pleasant herbal syrup, for over 30 years. At all drug counters. For generous FREE trial bottle, write to Pertussin, Dept. S-17, 440 Washington St., New York City. 58 Woman In Love (Continued from page 24) pick it up. . . . Tarn, listen a minute, you — you and I are going to be friends, aren't we? You — I'm not just like all the others, am I?" "No," she answered slowly, thinking. "You're not like the others. . . . You — you're half fooling. I'm not fooling. I never thought I'd say this to any man again, and I haven't — for eight years. But you could make me like you, if you tried!" An odd expression came into the man's eyes. He lifted her small hand to his lips. "Maybe I will, Tarn," he said, as he left. THE weeks began to slip by and it was summer, but Tam stayed on in the city, working, and George was always with her. Then the Willey company went to Portland and Seattle and Salt Lake City in repertory, but still he had a surprising way of turning up in her dressing room now and then; he "happened to be in the neighborhood," or he "was coming to Tacoma anyway." She came to depend upon him; sometimes he held the book while she recited her lines, learning a new part, and always while they were having supper together he told her of his cases. He was working with a fine law firm now, a firm with a splendid reputation, Martell, Hunter & Martell. One day he asked her what she would think of his running for district attorney. Oscar Mullins had the job now, but his term would soon be over, and he was more or less in disrepute. Tam considered it. She had known him for seven months, eight months. Quite simply, quite naturally he had come to be the most important person in her life. "I think it would be splendid if you became district attorney," she said. "Would you have a chance?" "Reilly says so, and if anyone knows, it ought to be Reilly. The political situation is peculiar right now. He thinks I could get the party nomination hands down." "Well — " Tam smiled. "You'd like it?" "I'd like anything that brings you a little nearer. Do you realize that on January twentieth it'll be a whole year? You said a year, you know." He came across to the big chair in which her slim figure had almost lost itself. They were in his rooms at the Sir Francis Drake; Tam had been having tea with him. George knelt down before her and locked his arms about her waist, and Tam laid both hands on his collar. "Will you marry me, Tam?" he said. "I was sliding downhill fast when I met you. You're the one who pulled me back up. It was because of you that I stopped drinking and gambling. I belong to you, Tam. Surely, you wouldn't have done all you've done for me to throw me down now?" "Just — just being good friends isn't enough, George?" "Not half enough! We want to find a little apartment somewhere on a hill, Tam, with a view, and have lamps and teacups and all the rest of it." "But, George, suppose that after we're married things go badly again? Suppose you began to wish you were back — back in that old time, before you knew me? Then I'd have no hold over you, would I?" "I don't think you need worry, Tam. I'm awake now, and it's more than I've been in ten years. I'm myself. Do you know what I mean when I say that I'm myself?" "Yes, I know what you mean," she said, as he paused. "I did something once that wasn't myself — something rotten — and how frightful it felt until I came back to being myself again!" "I don't believe," he said, "that you know what it is to do anything rotten. It simply isn't in you." "You're extremely generous, George. This," Tam said reflectively — "this may be as good a time to tell you as any other. Sooner or later of course I'll have to tell you." "You don't have to tell me anything, you simp." Tam pushed him aside and went over to stand and look out of the window. "Thank you, dear, for your belief in me; it's very sweet," she said after a pause. "But . . ." And then she told him the whole sad, sordid story, leaving nothing out — of Mayne Mallory and the Telegraph Hill crowd, of those first dazzling days in the theater with Mayne, of her home, of the evening before the fire in Mayne's hotel room and the tour that followed, of the rainy Sunday in Sacramento when she said good bye to the man she had loved, or thought she loved. And, finally, of Aunt Mary and "Little Mary," who was not Aunt Mary's niece at all, but her own daughter. He heard her to the end without interruption. But when she had finished— "You darling!" he said, his arms about her, and her head down on his shoulder. "You little, sweet, ashamed darling! You didn't have to tell me this!" OH, but I did," Tam said after an interval, quite simply drying her eyes. "Because now you can see why I can't marry you, or anyone, and how I happen to know that a life can be picked up out of ruins and made full and square again." "Do you ever see him, Tam?" "Never. He has never even known that there was a child." "You never wrote him!" "Oh, yes, but only at first — only when I first knew there would be a baby. He didn't answer, and I didn't think he would." "I'd like to meet him," George said levelly. "Would you like to know his name, George?" "I would not. Forget him!" She smiled at him, but there were tears behind the smile. "I'm horribly sorry," she said. "Tam," George said, "if anything could make me love you more than I do — but nothing could — " "Then," she said, not daring to believe, "then what I told you doesn't make any difference?" "It only brings you nearer, Tam. It only makes me love you more. There's no one else in the world except you. What happened eight years ago, or two years ago, doesn't matter. What does matter is that you found me in the gutter and put out your beautiful strong hand and saved me. And what I'm going to do for you is RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR