Free Romance Classics by Peggy Gaddis

her.
    Tip laughed and said, “No kiddin’? Why, you little two-timer! When was that?”
    Geraldine let out her held breath in a tiny ghost of sound. He was going to take it well! She felt a little warm rush of eagerness. The right words, exactly the right expression — Oh, dear God, it must be
right!
    “Oh — when I was terribly lonely and — I thought you were never coming back,” she managed to say, almost brightly casual.
    “Well, I’ll be darned,” said Tip and seemed only surprised and not in the least upset.
    Suddenly he got up and walked to the balustrade of the terrace and stood with his back to her, looking out over the moon-drenched garden. She saw the tiny, gleaming arc his lighted cigarette made as he flicked it from him, and over his shoulder he spoke at last.
    “Were you — in love with him, Gerry?” he asked. Now there was no trace of raillery in his voice, but a sudden tension about him that she could see as well as feel.
    For just an instant she steeled herself for the one great, all-convincing lie of her life. She must tell it so that he would have no faintest doubt; he must believe her implicitly.
    “How could I possibly be in love with him,” she asked very low, “when I was — and always have been — loving you with all my heart?”
    There was the tiniest possible tremor in her voice, but Tip read it as further proof of her sincerity. He turned and came back to her and sat down. His hands captured hers, that were cold and shaking, and held them close.
    “That’s the truth, Gerry?” he asked and now his voice was taut, almost sharp. “You have never really stopped loving me?”
    And Geraldine said in a tone, the sincerity of which was utterly convincing to the man who needed so desperately to believe, “Never, for a single moment”
    Tip said levelly, “Phil Donaldson’s — quite a fellow.”
    Geraldine smiled through tears she could not control.
    “So are you, darling,” she said very low.
    Tip took her into his arms and held her closely, his cheek against her hair.
    “Dear little Gerry!” he said huskily. “Loving you always, Gerry. Never anybody else —
never!”
    Geraldine had told her gallant white lie, and now with Tip’s arm about her, she knew her feet were committed forever to the path he walked, and which they must walk hand in hand. She was Tip’s wife, and she must never forget it for a single breath of time. If a sob struggled in her throat, Tip was not conscious of it; or if he was, he misunderstood the reason for it.

Chapter Nine
    As Tip’s health increased, Geraldine gave up driving him to the plant. He had bought a little old jalopy in which he drove himself, leaving the sedan at home for Geraldine’s and Mrs. Parker’s use. He came home in the evenings excited and pleased about his work, interested, almost himself. But there were times when he thought himself unobserved, when he sat silent, his eyes brooding, his shoulders drooping. At such times Geraldine walked softly, and her heart ached with pity for him because of the ugly memories he could not quite shake off.
    Mrs. Parker had taken it surprisingly well when Geraldine had told her that Tip knew of her former engagement to Phil.
    “I knew you would have to tell him sooner or later,” she commented, the thin edge of accusation in her voice.
    “Of course,” Geraldine said curtly.
    Mrs. Parker studied her curiously for a moment.
    “How did he take it?” she asked at last.
    “Like a man,” said Geraldine.
    “Being Tip,” Mrs. Parker finished. “And I suppose he is going to set you free so you can marry your — lover?”
    There was a stinging lash in the last word beneath which Geraldine quivered inwardly.
    “I convinced him that I did not really love Phil,” she said evenly.
    Sharp relief showed in Mrs. Parker’s eyes.
    “Well, of course! Naturally you couldn’t forget a man like Tip for a creature like Donaldson,” she said sharply.
    Geraldine turned on her, and for a moment she