Radio and television mirror (Nov 1939-Apr 1940)

"Yes, you skunk, let her go," said Jackey's voice from above her. "Or I'll smash you into the middle of next week." "Jackey!" Sunday gasped as Arthur's grip abruptly relaxed. "Where did you come from?" "Me'n Lively followed you. We've been sittin' in the next booth for the last hour, listenin'," Jackey said grimly. "Come along, Sunday. We're goin' home." THANKFULLY, she was led away— ' but not before she had had one last glimpse of Arthur, saying through pale lips: "Remember, Sunday, what I said. If you say one word against me to Laura — I'll telegraph Henry." All night Sunday lay awake. If Arthur let Henry know where she was, she would have to leave Linden. Once again she would be left without an anchor — without a home, without money or the means of earning it. Once again she would be a fugitive. All this she knew — and yet, never ones did she doubt that she would warn Laura against Arthur. It would be sensible, wise, to let Arthur go his way, let him fleece this silly, ridiculous woman of money which, after all, meant little to her. It would be the part of wisdom to keep silent. Wisdom? But you couldn't discard all that was right and honest, and call that wisdom. She knew she would never know a moment's peace if she allowed Arthur practically to steal money from Laura, and — perhaps — end up by ruining her marriage. For Brad Jenkins wasn't the sort of man who would stand very long for having his orders disobeyed. The next morning she went straight to Laura. "Mrs. Jenkins, there's something I have to tell you — " Laura looked up abstractedly from her coffee and morning mail. "Yes?" "It's about Arthur Brinthrope. I — I tried to warn you yesterday — " The pretty, soft face changed expression at that. "Warn me? What in the world are you talking about?" "He's no good, Mrs. Jenkins. I — knew him before I met him here, and I know he's a thorough rotter. What Mr. Jenkins said is true — he's been cheating you at cards — winning your money dishonestly — " Laura's eyes and mouth as she listened to Sunday's story, opened simultaneously. One perfectly-manicured hand fluttered to her cheek and then away again. And, at last, she had a fit of very thorough hysterics. When her employer had been put to bed and dosed with sedatives, Sunday went slowly downstairs, trailing one hand along the polished oak of the banister. So — here was the end of another chapter. SHE pulled on her shabby felt hat and tweed coat, let herself out of the big house. For the last time she walked the few blocks to her apartment house, going through the treelined streets which even in a few weeks she had learned to love. Jackey and Lively were in the apartment, playing with Lonnie, when she quietly entered. They looked up, wide-eyed with surprise at seeing her home so early. "We're leaving Linden, darlings," she announced. "I think — I think Henry will be coming here soon to look for us, and I want to be gone when he gets here." "You told Mrs. Jenkins 'bout Arthur?" Jackey asked. Sunday nodded, and they both rose. Lively held out his arms to her, and then for a few moments she could give way to her unhappiness, cry on the rough, tobacco-odored old shoulder as she had when she was a little girl. "There, there," Jackey murmured. "I was hopin' you'd tell on him, even if he did let on to Henry where you was. Ain't nothin' in life, Sunday, worth sellin' your soul for." DECAUSE it could only be a matter " of hours before Arthur attempted to see Laura Jenkins and, being refused admittance, would know that Sunday had betrayed him and would telegraph Henry, they lost no time in packing their few belongings into the second-hand car and setting out. "Ain't you goin' to say good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins?" Lively asked. "Oh, I suppose I should — they've been so kind. But I don't want to have to answer any questions," Sunday objected, and Jackey patted her knee and said, "Now, Lively, don't go tryin' to make Sunday do anythin' she don't want to." And so, unheralded as they had arrived, they drove out of Linden. "We haven't been very lucky in small towns," Sunday said as the car wheezed northward. "Let's go to Chicago, and I'll try to find work somewhere there — in a department store, perhaps. It won't cost much to get there, either." <A CM, CK J&pe/ Let Park & Tilford No. 3 Perfume make you the girl men can't forget! Be exotic with this long-lasting oriental scent. Try this exquisite fragrance — brought to you by the famous house of Park 8c Tilford . . .with its 100 year tradition of truly fine quality. Get Park&Tilford No. 3 Perfume today! At drug, dept. and ten cent stores. Wake up your sleeping loveliness with Park & Tilford beauty aids, preferred by the smart set everywhere: FACE POWDER • LIPSTICK . ROUGE • PERFUMED DEODORANT 10* 25* $1.00 Other Park & Tilford odeurs: lilac: gardenia; adventure: no. 1a: cherish. PARK fir TILFORD APRIL, 1940 63