Crazy Radio eBooks

"Because," she added, "I can't go home yet. I've--only
started."
"Started!" he echoed. "Do you think I'm going to let this beastly farce
go any further?"
And with that the smoldering fire licked up into flame again. He told
her what had happened in his office this afternoon; told her of the
attitude of his friends, how they'd all known about it--undoubtedly had
come to see for themselves, and, out of pity or contempt, hadn't told
him. He told her how he'd felt, sitting there in the theater; why he'd
waited at the stage door for her. He accused her, as with its
self-engendered heat his wrath burned brighter, of having selected the
thing to do that would hurt him worst, of having borne a grudge against
him and avenged it.
It was the ignoblest moment of his life, and he knew it. The accusations
he was making against her were nothing to those that were storing up in
his mind against himself. The sense of rightness that would have made
him gentle, had been carried away by the passion he'd shared with her,
and he couldn't get it back.


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