Evening Star Newspaper, April 1, 1937, Page 47

THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTON, D. (., THURSDAY, APRIL 1, 1937. DAILY SHORT STORY LAST PAGE By Evelyn Le Munyon. rain beat a steady staccato oen the windows of $he cab. Traffic on Pennsylvania avenue was slow for the most part with now and then a spurt of accelera- tion by some ven- turesome driver. Peter eyed the downpour with mingled emotions. The thought of the promotional meeting tonight provided no conso- lation now. He opened her letter, hurriedly scrib- bled on the pages of & note pad, and reread it. His hands trembled in * realization that here was his first love letter from her. Funny little love scratch paper. Old Man Remorse tugged relent- lessly as last evening passed in re- trospect. Strange what a temper can do! Stranger still what pride can do! A telephone call today might have ended their quarrel, but in- stead a lover's obstinacy triumphed So silly, all of it So utterly, abominably foolish. Neither of them in their false pride would give an nch, and upon their decision to mgree or disagree hung their whole future, a future that could be beauti- ful or ugly, a life for each of them that could be filled to overflowing with happines, or could be empty, futile, spent in the misery of re- gret and sorrow as a result of childish stubborness. How could he have been so unreasonable? How could he have blamed her for the | fact that she was attractive to others? Surely she hadn't encouraged the | attentions of Rose’s husband. And not | only that, but the poor sap had hardly | been responsible for his actions any- | way. Even he couldn't be blamed. It was no one's fault but his, Peter's, x ok K x PI‘TI'FRS lips formed the \(nrds of the note. “Dear Peter,” it ran, *last night was silly, wasn't it? I think we were both a little at fault, but that is neither here nor there. I have tried several times to phone | you, but my courage has gone the way of a lot of other things. In desperation, I have resorted to the most convenient object left—the tele- phone pad. Try to forget all the ugly things I said in anger and the | nonchalance as to whether you went | or stayed. I'm sorry, Peter, and letter on “Dear Peter, it ran.” | were leaving me forever. please forgive me.” And there it had stopped. How | like Jill, he thought, to end it that | way. No closing—no signature. He | folded the slips and returned them to his pocket. What an impetuous creature she was. A woman and yet | a child, deserting the protection of | a& man’s whole being. Last night he had denied her this and instead had railed her with words that must have cut with their implications. Jealousy was a vicious thing, he con- cluded, when it could distort a harm- less situation into a possible threat to happiness. * ok X x JNSTEAD of sharing the others' | admiring glances, he, alone, wanted that privilege. He, not she, was to blame, and yet, with a child’s impulsive forgiveness, she had written her apology. Long ago he had fallen in love with this same impulsiveness. His eyes closed in de- lightful anticipation of their reunion. He wished he could direct the driver %0 turn back home. Once he reached the apartment it would not take long to enfold Jill in his arms, and between kisses would come the sworn promises | that this was the end of all their | quarrels. They told him later, the doctors et al, that it was fortunate his eyes were closed and, consegquently, he was relaxed to the impact of cab against trolley. The driver, starting too soon after the change. in light, brought his car di- rectly into the path of the heavier ve- hicle. The chauf- feur died instantly and Peter, taken to General Hospital, was recovering from a possible skull fracture. e s e . HEAD throbbing, Peter opened his eyes and gazed about him, his face 2 mask of bewil- derment and helplessness. ‘He saw Jill standing beside him and he thought he was still dreaming. She seemed a beautiful blur and he closed his eyes and fell back upon the cot, content just to look at her that way. Then he couldn’t see her as well and he struggled to rise again. Everything was so confused; first, he saw a great red street car, then Jill, then white uniformed figures, then Jill. Every- thing bobbing, jumping, his head split- ting with pain Slowly, his mind groped its way back to reality and, half-rising from the cot, he called to her. Then he saw her, standing there, just as she always must continue to. He was delirious on every point but one. That was that he wanted Jill, that he must tell her that he was wrong, that he was sorry, that she must believe him. There was no effort to his talking. He had things to say and they were said clearly, | rapidly, with a curious sincerity | grounded in the truthfulness of the unconscious mind. He said what he thought, just as if his thoughts them- selves were doing the talking. “Jilll Jill, come back! It was all my fault and you must forgive me! I've just had the most horrible dream. I called to you, pleaded with you. but each time you turned your back and moved farther and farther away. If only you could know the agony I have known! Oh, not this!” (He lifted a hand weakly to his head. “But the torment of believing you impetuous Jill!"” R 7OUR note reached me as I was going out the door and I should have run straight to your arms in- stead of getting mysell all mangled up like this! You're so like a little girl, Jill, and I love these childish, | impulsive things about you. Do you | know, darling, that you were in such a hurry to get the note off to me that you forgot to sign your familiar scrawl at the end? It's all over now, Jill, and just as soon as I can I'll be out of here and trying to make up for all the unhappi- ness.” Jill bent over him, tears misting the smile in her eyes. Her love for him and his need of her were only too evident now. The lump in her throat held back the explanation she might have made earlier. Now he would never know that when the telephone called her to his side she had discovered the last page of that note. Fortunately, through haste and carelessness and perhaps her tears, it had not been torn off with the rest. It read: “But, even though a spark of love remains, I cannot endure’ your jeal- ousy. I am going back to Phila- delphia. Later we can discuss di- vorce. In haste, Jill.” (Copyright, 1937.) MOUSE DELAYS REPORT Rural Electrification Data Being Compiled Again. | RALEIGH, N. C, April 1 (#)— The monthly report of the State Rural ' Electrification Authority may be re- leased a little behind schedule. The reason: A mouse ate part of J. M. 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