t you?"

Her hand on his shoulder. "Giddy, I've been stuck on you since I was
nine years old, in Winnebago. I kept track of you all through the war,
though I never once saw you. Then I lost you. Giddy, when I was a kid I
used to look at you from the sidewalk through the hedge of the house on
Cass. Honestly. Honestly, Giddy."

"But look at me now. Why, Mary, I'm--I'm no good. Why, I don't see how
you ever knew----"

"It takes more than a new Greek nose and French clothes and a bum arm to
fool me, Gid. Do you know, there were a lot of photographs of you left
up in the attic of the Cass Street house when we bought it. I know them
all by heart, Giddy. By heart.... Come on home, Giddy. Let's go home."

NOT A DAY OVER TWENTY-ONE

Any one old enough to read this is old enough to remember that favourite
heroine of fiction who used to start her day by rising from her couch,
flinging wide her casement, leaning out and breathing deep the perfumed
morning air. You will recall, too, the pure white rose clambering at the
side of the casement, all jewelled with the dew of dawn. This the lady
plucked carolling. Daily she plucked it. A hardy perennial if ever there
was one. Subsequently, pressing it to her lips, she flung it into the
garden below, where stood her lover (likewise an early riser).

Romantic proceeding this, but unhygienic when you consider that her rush
for the closed casement was doubtless due to the fact that her bedroom,
hermetically sealed during the night, must have grown pretty stuffy by
morning. Her complexion was probably bad.

No such idyllic course marked the matin of our heroine. Her day's
beginning differed from the above in practically every detail. Thus:

A--When Harrietta rose from her couch (cream enamel, full-sized bed
with double hair mattress and box springs) she closed her casement with
a bang, having slept in a gale that swept her two-room-and-kitchenette
apartment on the eleventh floor in Fifty-sixth Street.

B--She never leaned out except, perhaps, to flap a dust rag, because
lean as she might, defying the laws of gravity and the house
superintendent, she could have viewed nothing more than roofs and sky
and chimneys where already roofs and sky and chimneys filled the eye
(unless you consider that by screwing around and flattening one ear and
the side of your jaw against the window jamb you could almost get a
glimpse of distant green prominently mentioned in the agent's ad as
"unex