moving the volume control levers, and then turned it off suddenly. "You know what, I'm scary these days, afraid of being by myself. I got the pianola to keep me company while Mother is in Atlantic City getting rid of her awful cold. She always has colds in New York. I think she wishes I'd get married soon so she can go back to Congress. She's transferred her hopes from Lyle to Clem, isn't that crazy? She really enjoyed being with Aunt Mabel, and talks about how peaceful it was. I asked her didn't she want to go back now, but she won't think of it until after the recital. She won't hear of Brooks doing the costumes, she'll love making them herself. What's the matter, don't you feel well?"
"I feel fine, I never felt better," Vida said bleakly.
"You don't act it."
"Please, Lucy—it's the weather, that's all." This certainly was not the moment she had hoped for to confide her fears. It was silly of Lucy who had everything and knew how to cope with men to get herself into a state because of Mae being away for two weeks. The apartment looked as if it were falling apart. The uneven shades, one spun up into its cord. A wilting bouquet had been thrust into a waterless vase just as it had come in a florist's box. Cleo had not dusted or carpet-swept for days. And Clem's loaf of bread painting hung lonesome in the middle of the wall between two light brackets, one with shade askew.
"Maybe you are getting a cold?" Lucy guessed.
"I feel fine, I tell you," she snapped.
"I'll bet you aren't eating properly. Remember those Reuben's sandwiches we used to eat at night when you stayed here? I wish you'd stay with me until Mother gets back. I can't stand being alone, and besides, I'm awfully jittery these days."
"I don't see what you have to be jittery about, perhaps you're going out too much," Vida countered querulously. "Besides, we keep such different hours, neither of us would get any rest."
"That's an excuse—but it's all right if you don't want to," Lucy said moodily.
Of course I want to, Vida thought, I'd like nothing better than not to be alone myself, but now that I'm at the point I just can't tell her about Rad because I'm so ashamed—even though I feel relieved since I told him definitely I don't want to see him again. There really is nothing to be worried about because if I were pregnant I've heard you feel nauseous.
"It's not that I don't want to," she said, "it's that I don't think
