Radio and television mirror (Nov 1939-Apr 1940)

BAD BREATH ALMOST BROKE UP OURHOMElX ^b^ 2 COLGATE'S COMBATS BAD BREATH , ...MAKES TEETH SPARKLE/ | "Colgate's special penetratingioisa gets into hidden crevices between your teeth . . . J>^s helps your toothbrush P* '"" clean out decaying food particlesand stop the stagnant saliva odors that cause much bad breath. And Colgate's safe polishing agent makes teeth naturally bright and sparkling! Always use Colgate Dental Cream — regularly and frequently. No other dentifrice is exactly like it." was not so very long ago that Arthur Brinthrope had pulled the wool over her eyes, too. Only once, when Laura asked if she had enjoyed herself the night before, did she venture a word of warning. "I didn't like Mr. Brinthrope much, though, Mrs. Jenkins. I don't think he's very trustworthy." LAURA'S bright black eyes flashed suspicion. "Why? When he took you home, did he — " "Oh no, nothing like that," Sunday said hurriedly. "I just — oh, he seems so very smooth and sure of himself." "Arthur's a dear boy and comes from a fine old English family," Laura said stiffly. "But more than that, Sunday, he's my friend." And, warned, Sunday fell silent. As the day drew to a close she became more and more nervous and upset. The dinner with Arthur loomed up as an unbearable ordeal. His actions the night before had showed too plainly what his intentions were — to tantalize her, hold over her the threat of revealing her whereabouts to Henry. Though for what reason, she didn't know. Afraid of Jackey's temper, she hadn't told him or Lively of her meeting with Arthur, and that afternoon, when she went home, she was forced to invent a story about some unfinished work that Mrs. Jenkins wanted her to do. "I only dropped in to change my dress and give Lonnie his dinner," she explained, avoiding Jackey's wise old eyes. "Then Mrs. Jenkins expects me back for dinner." Jackey seemed to accept the excuse. She didn't know that while she was 62 dressing he went to the telephone in the downstairs hall and called the Jenkins residence — to be told by the butler that Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins had both gone out to dinner and were not expected home until late. "Sunday never could lie to me," he told Lively grimly as soon as she had left. "Come on. We're goin' too." The Amber Lantern, Sunday discovered, was a restaurant with highbacked booths surrounding a tiny bit of dance floor on which nobody, apparently, ever danced. Arthur was waiting for her just inside the entrance. And all through dinner he was utterly charming, as no one but Arthur ever knew how to be charming. He deferred to her when he ordered, suggested a dish that was particularly good, talked lightly and entertainingly of impersonal matters, and never once referred to Henry. Then, over coffee, he remarked, "Well, all this has been very pleasant, but I suppose we'd better get down to business. I still think I ought to tell Henry where you are, but — maybe I could be persuaded not to." WHITE-FACED, hands clenched in her lap, Sunday faced him. "What are you trying to get out of me, Arthur? I'll tell you right now, I haven't any money. You can't blackmail me." "What ugly words you use sometimes Sunday. I wouldn't think of blackmailing an old friend like you." He took a sip of the liqueur he had ordered, then held the tiny glass up to the light and rotated it slowly between his fingers. "No. I only want to ... be your friend. And if, as you say, you and Henry have sepa rated— I've always been in love with you, Sunday — you know that." "Love!" She knew it was foolish to let him see her scorn; foolish, because she was entirely in his power. "You don't know the meaning of it!" "You've never given me a chance to show you how much of the meaning of love I know," he said softly. THE enormity of his suggestion over ' came her. The blood pounded in her temples and her face felt as if it would burst into flame. "You despicable — conceited — fool!" she whispered. "How a man like Henry could have a brother like you — an embezzler, cheat, card-sharp — " "Card-sharp! What are you talking about?" he demanded quickly, and carried away by her anger, heedless of consequences, she rushed on: "Yes, card-sharp! I happen to know that you've been winning money at bridge from Laura Jenkins — I don't know how much or how often, but I'm sure it wasn't honestly — " His hand shot across the table, imprisoned hers in a fierce grip. "Keep quiet!" "I know something else, too. You're not going to be able to go on taking money from Laura — because this morning Brad refused to give her any more!" "If you've said anything to Brad or Laura about me — ! By heaven, Sunday, then I will telegraph Henry!" All the polished suavity was gone now, and in its place Sunday saw the bestial temper that was the real Arthur Brinthrope. His hand was crushing hers; she was terrified. "Arthur! Let me go!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR