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Show BON VOYAGE BY HARRY C. TROVER afternooon had begun to gloarrK into dusk as the lights came on in the streets and the stars blinked blink-ed on in the sky making him aware of the glitter of the snow under foot and the scrunch, scrunch of it as he put his weight forward. As he turned in at the walk he noticed that the outside lights .were not burning. Always before when he came home after dark these two symbols were glowing glow-ing as an advance greeting. He walked to the desk and (Continued on Page Eleven) 9 piece pleasantly complimented its companions, and with good reason. The house had been furnished piecemeal with such long waits between purchases that by the time Brenda could afford the next item on her list she was absolutely certain what she wanted. It didn't seem possible that it had happened to them. No matter how desperately he tried to bring the events of the past few days into focus so that he could inspect them separately and together for the meaning behind it all, he always came back to the same impasse. ..It didn't seem possible pos-sible . . . THE WIND had whistled down the eaves of the house all through a sleepless night, and now Monty buttoned the slit in the back of his topcoat against it before he stepped step-ped out into the winter afternoon. after-noon. Buttoned, gloved and muffed he took his hand from, the door to make a last minute inspection of the living and dining rooms that opened from the hallway. He had seen Brenda do this same thing more times than he could remember. remem-ber. All set to go, and then the final look about to see that every tastefully selected period piece was in the place that did the most for itself and the room it was in. Everything was in order- Each Brenda always bought. The saleslady asked if she could show him anything else. He quickly quick-ly checked his mental list. One more purchase to make. Thanking her for her help, he walked out of the shop pulling on the hat which he had been holding in his hand. With the packages clamped clamp-ed firmly under his arm, he moved through the crowd for several blocks and then slipped into a less-trafficked street. He entered a neat and compact shop where summer flowers bloomed as radiantly ra-diantly as if it were June. The florist brought out a large vase filled with full-blooded roses in graduated stages of bloom, and from them Monty was invited to make his choice. He put twenty-four twenty-four carefully to one side, keeping in mind that they would be delivered de-livered tomorrow. Tomorrow. ..As he thought about seeing her again after the first separation in almost ten years of married life he began to build the anticipated scene in his mind . . . At the little writing desk he found a plain white card and a matching envelop. He wrote sim-uly, sim-uly, "For Brenda. With love, Monty." When m reached home again the murky grey of the winter Downtown the streets were filled fill-ed from show window to curb with shoppers, of whom Monty was completely oblivious except as they made the careless infractions on his person that are not considered familiar or rude in a crowded public pub-lic place. He welcomed the rush of warm air that brushed the cold bite off his cheeks as he stepped into the lush interior of a smart dress shop. An impeccably groomed saleswoman sales-woman approached him from the opposite side of her pince-nez eye wear to ask if she could be of help. When he told her that he wanted a. dress for aftpmnnn wpar he felt satisfied, a perfect union of balance and restraint. From a selection of sheer nylons ny-lons Monty chose the shade that paused to look' over the no- S tices of coming musical events, which was something he had - never done before, and at the same time his eyes darted over ov-er the crowd, waiting for the kaleidoscope of faces to turn up the one he would recognize recog-nize at a glance. When the contact was made neither one said anything very novel,' but with a mutual appreciation apprecia-tion of music as a beginning they soon found they had other, more basic, interests in common. Although Al-though they would like to have been married right away, Monty was taking his civil service examinations ex-aminations at the time and he thought it best to wait until his job at the post office was secured. The dress Monty finally selected, select-ed, after carefully reconsidering several runners-up, was an interesting inter-esting design called "The Comet." It was dark blue almost black an exquisite style with a shooting star emblazoned in silver sequins on the left shoulder with a trail of star dust in its, wake. It was, she led the way to a set of French doors over which was inscribed in characters reminiscent of an old Dore print, "The Chateau." Plaster mannequins posed about the room in various stages of dress and undress. How Brenda's eyes would have fluttered wide open at this sight; She always had wanted something from this store, but since the prices were slanted toward the Gold Coast trade the projected shopping trip had never progressed beyond the stage of wishful thinking. Although her band box appearance appear-ance was one of the links in the chain that eventually bound him to her, his first glimpse of Brenda had been so fleeting that he could not have said whether she was dressed well or in glaring bad taste. How does it happen that in a crowd of people where not one face is familiar to another, two persons will match eyes and for one swift moment the relationship is almost as intimate as an embrace em-brace ? Often that encounter is both the beginning and the end. But sometimes, some-times, as in the case of Brenda and Monty, there is destiny in that brief exchange. Their eyes had met for just a second as they moved with the crowd into the street in front of Orchestra Hall, and then each was lost to the other until the next week when both of them had come back to hear the second j.n a fourweek series of concerts. After the program Monty BON VOYAGE . A SHOUT STORY (Continued from Page Nine) lighted the lamp. The picture came to life as the dark brown eyes caught his and held. He turned to the window and opened the Venetian blinds. Thru the lattice of bare branches Monty looked at the stars scattered like diamonds on the black velvet night. It didn't seem possible that it had happened to them. For the first time Monty was glad there were no children. It had all happened so swiftly that before be-fore there was time to make an adequate defense, the harmless little cold had become double pneumonia, and in a few days Brenda was gone. He watched a star leave its orbit with a flash of light and veer off into space. Very quietly he said, "Bon voyage, darling!" |