Page:Glitter (1926).pdf/136

 right!" he said. "Brad's all right! I'm all right!" He laughed at himself, and swore. "Damn baby!"

The bungalow's windows threw gold across the sidewalk, visible for half a block, and cheerful, as though there might be a party on. One almost expected to hear voices and the lilt of laughter coming from within. One didn't, though. Only silence. . . . He strode up the stairs and across the porch. The door feel open as his knuckles grazed it. . ..

"Oh, Jock!" cried Eunice. "Oh, Jock!"

He led her into the living room and put her down in a chair, disengaging the arms that clutched about his neck. "No word?" he said.

"No, no, nothing"

Eunice's voice was hysterical. But it would have rung a little truer if her gown had not been so becoming and if her face had not been bright with cosmetics of obviously recent application. Jock had an intuitive flash: "She fixed herself up after she called me!" This filled him with swift cold wrath. Her husband inexplicably missing, possibly in danger, or—or worse, and she could have a thought for her appearance! But that was like Eunice. Selfish. Calloused. A really inhuman woman.

"Hang on to yourself, Eunice," he ordered curtly. "You'll have to help me think what to do."

"You can't do anythin', Jock."

"If I can't do anything what did you call me for?"

"Because I was so frightened! I wanted you—somebody—to stay heah with me until he comes"

Jock stared at her. Then was this all a ruse, cunningly devised to bring him hot-foot to the bungalow? Was Brad's absence not ominous after all, but expected? "Eunice," he said, "tell me the truth. Where is Brad?"