Free Girls' Dormitory by Orrie Hitt

saw that coat in the closet, the one that you never wear. It's Persian Lamb. Why don't you wear it?"
    "I didn't even mean to bring it with me."
    "It's nice."
    "Yes, I suppose it is. Do you want it?"
    Helen sat up quickly.
    "Want it?" she demanded. "Are you out of your mind?"
    "No. I have another one."
    "Just like it?"
    "Just like it. It's home."
    Helen got to her feet and moved around the room. "He must be rich," she said.
    "He is."
    "He a doctor or something?"
    "No, he's a contractor."
    "There's good money in that."
    "There has been for him."
    "And your mother is dead?"
    "Yes."
    "How old is he?"
    "In his late fifties."
    "That isn't very old."
    "Well, he has young ideas."
    "Does he? How young?"
    "As young as the law allows."
    Helen laughed and came toward her.
    "He sounds interesting. I'd like to meet him."
    "You probably will."
    "Do you think he'll come to this parents' thing?"
    Peggy nodded. "He never turned down an invitation yet."
    It was late in the afternoon, shortly before dinner, and they seldom made love at that time. But this afternoon, it was different. Today, Peggy felt very close to Helen, awfully close. She could talk to Helen and Helen, without lengthy explanation, understood.
    "I'll help you if I can," she said to Helen. "I want to help you. I want to give you the coat and I want to give you money and I want to do anything else that I can do for you."
    Helen was very near now, her naked arms moving out slowly and coming around Peggy. Her arms were thin and strong, delicately molded, and as she gathered Peggy to her Peggy could feel the warmth of soft, smooth skin.
    "I love you," Helen said.
    It was so good to hear, so good to know. She was choked up and dry inside.
    "And I love you. I want to make you happy."
    "You have made me happy."
    "In ways other than—this."
    "That's up to you. But this is the best. This is more than anything else."
    They sank to the bed, still holding each other.
    "Do you think so?" Peggy cried, trembling.
    There was always that fear, always that doubt.
    "I know so. No man could be this much for either of us."
    "Not so beautiful, no."
    "Man destroys. He can't build."
    "I know that."
    "But we have to be careful. We ought to date some, both of us. The other girls do. The only one who doesn't is Patty Cain and nobody would have anything to do with her."
    "I heard that Jerry goes up to her room."
    "Jerry never looks at a girl's face. He'd go to any room that wasn't locked."
    "Would he?"
    "He's a typical animal—terrible and awful and savage."
    "How do you know?"
    "I know, that's all." Helen said, reaching behind Peggy. "Oh, my darling, come here."
    And then Peggy was being kissed, kissed the way she wanted to be kissed. She closed her mind and her body to everything, everything except the mounting excitement within her.
    "I love you," she sobbed.
    The response was not one of words.
    Love was a thing of silence.
    Later they dressed. Helen put on a black dress and Peggy slipped into a yellow thing that clung to every line of her body. She never wore the dress to school, because it was too low in front, but it was all right around the house. Lots of the girls, even with Jerry present, dressed in robes and things a lot more revealing.
    "Must run," Helen said.
    Sometimes Helen seemed to be in a terrific hurry. "It isn't time for dinner yet."
    "I know. But I have to stop in and see Thelma on the way down."
    "Oh."
    Helen had been visiting Thelma a lot lately.
    "She's lonely," Helen said, going to the door. "She keeps talking about her husband all the time, like she can't get over his being dead. You feel sorry for somebody like that."
    "Yes."
    Helen opened the door and paused.
    "It doesn't do any harm to be nice to her," she said. "After all, she's a woman, too."
    Then Helen was gone and Peggy was alone, very much alone. At moments like this, terrible moments that washed over her after a wave of loving, she was shaken and breathless and hated herself.
    What they did was wrong.
    Wrong.
    But theirs