Chapter 9

It was last year when I saw the ghost again. The same ghost I had once seen when I sat in the living room praying for him; praying that the demons he had be sent to the pigs. This time, the ghost was not seated where I had seen it the last time. It stood at the door, fifteen years since the law parted us, six years since I last saw him, when I visited him in prison with his son.

When I answered a knock at the door, he was standing there, looking exactly as I knew him a decade and half ago. I couldn't believe my eyes. I believed I was dreaming. It was when he talked that my eyes appreciated the picture and the truth that it was Jack standing there.

"Hi, Milly. Can I come in?" I stood aside. I didn't know what to do. Something warned me not to take him in my hands the way I used to. I longed to do it but I wasn't sure he felt the same about it. It was a long time since we were so close, yet it felt as if the period was shorter than the time he had absconded when the town was hot for him.

He moved straight in and took a seat. From there, he looked at the ceiling first, he wasn't talking but seemed to be deep in thought. He then stood up to look at the pictures I had on the wall. They were many and there were a few of me and him in the good old days. He stared at each picture for minutes before he moved to the next. I could detect some pains in him. Then the baby started crying from the bedroom. I saw him turn to look at me, his face sad and seeming to criticise my deeds. I looked away from him and went to attend to the girl. She was three then. Jack hadn't talked up to now. Inside the bedroom,

I started it all over again, weeping. He had reminded me of so many things just by looking at him. I hated myself for not being patient enough. At times I felt I should blame him for all that. He had insisted that I find someone else, as he too didn't expect to see the outside of the prison walls that soon. It really seemed soon because that was not when I expected him. He must have left several years before his time. Or had he broken out of jail? It was hard to know with Jack.

I went back to the living room, holding the child. He had seen enough of the pictures and was now seated on the sofa, his eye closed as if in prayers. He opened them when I took a seat opposite him. He took a minute admiring the baby in my hands, then opened up.

"How have you been doing, Milly?" That name which had gone to jail with him came back. No one else called me by that name, because I never liked it. It reminded me of my bitter experiences.

"I have been doing fairly well."

"Same with me. You haven't changed much." "Thank you." What else could I say.

"Thank you, for?" He had started it all over again. Making me feel young, like the good old days when we met and I couldn't get words to tell him or to explain why I thanked him. I kept quite to await his next move.

"Where is the father?" He gestured, indicating the child.

"Just within town."

"Are you married?"

"No."

"What are you waiting for?"

"Please, Jack, your questions are too direct and I feel unable to be as direct."

"So, how would you like me to put them? You know I don't like beating about the bush. When are you marrying?"

"When God wishes, Jack. I left everything to God."

"You like your husband?" I kept quiet for a while. I wasn't sure what he was driving at, and I was afraid of hurting him.

"MilLy, I am not asking you that question because there is something I want you to do about it. I want to know that you are happy. That you love your husband, because if you do not, life will never be kind to you. You know, I believe I was the wrong person for you. I mean, a man like me would never make a good husband. I

want you to be happy…"

"I am happy, Jack. Please do not remind me of yourself. It would only hurt me. You shouldn't talk that way of yourself. You have always been good, very kind to me, and you have the concern of a good husband. There is only one thing which spoils you, Jack. You should do something about it."

"What is that?"

I hesitated. I was not decided on whether to tell him straightaway or not. It felt like he wasn't the person I once knew; the person I called my husband. I didn't know how much prison had changed him; for better or for worse. But that feeling was in me. He wasn't the same. He was talking with me freely, the humorous touch he always had was up to now still with him. But there was some bitterness in his voice; face, and even his smile looked phony co me.

There was one thing that I could not mistake: he was still in love, just as I was. I didn't have to show him that his comeback had meant a lot to me. But I had to be loyal to the new man I already had. We weren't married, but were planning to do so soon. I was happy, anyway, that

this had to happen in Jack's presence. Our marriage would have reminded me of Jack and his terrible situation, and that would have brought a lot of difference.

I looked at him to see if there was anything I could read from his face before I told him what I had always wanted to tell him. Probably he already had decided to do it on his own. But I had to tell him, so that he might know that he wasn't in it alone. He didn't wait; he seemed to sense I feared to tell him the wrong thing.

"You were telling me of that thing which spoils me. What is it?"

'Jack, I am finding it hard to tell you. You know I do not have that freedom I used to have on you. I must think, before…"

"That's being foolish, Milly. You can't say that to me. I can stand and go, and forget I ever had you in life. But if you feel you have welcomed me, I feel the same about you."

'Jack, have you changed? Have you given yourself time to think about your future?"

"You want to know of the truth? A frank answer?"

"Of course, otherwise I shouldn't know at all."

"Anyone who thinks of the future is a dreamer. Whoever can…"

"Please, Jack, don't say that. It is for each of us to plan this future through deeds and through arrangements, knowing what is good for you and what isn't. This is the only way which will make your dreams of a good future come true."

"Look here, Milly, there you are seated and nursing a babe which doesn't belong to me. I thought my future was to live with you forever. I planned it and did everything to build our future. Now, tell me, will you ever be my wife as we thought? Will you ever feel me beside your bed? How many times did you tell me we would do this and that in future when we got married? There is nothing like the future people talk about. What is of great importance is to have the fun for today. And of course, if you are married with your children, you…"

"You are no longer the same, Jack. Things will never be the same either." I looked at him. There was something very wrong with him. Prison had changed him. It had given him new principles, different from those he had before.

"So I am no longer the same. What of you? Are you the same?" I wasn't, but I wasn't going tG tell him so. I wished he would change the subject and let us, for a while, remind ourselves of the happy days we used to have. He talked again.

"You are the same Milly. Good looking and lovable. But you are guilty. You didn't expect me to be back. You thought I would die in prison. Isn't that so? I didn't die. I made it as I have always done…"

I ignored whatever he was saying and asked: "When did you come?"

"Two months ago. I was pardoned, somehow, good luck for me. I did not expect pardon. I still had some more six years to serve."

"Did you have to take that long before seeing me? Two months?"

"I had to trace you. You gave up visiting me years ago. But now I know why." He looked at the child and 1 knew what he meant.

"You told me to find another man. You never once encouraged me to have hope on you. Every time I came, you insisted I shouldn't, and that I find myself a man among the millions I was with. I did it."

He smiled bitterly and I knew he would insult me. He did. "So you went out looking for a man who'd suit you? You didn't wait for them to come to you? It must have given you a hard time, Milly. Why did you have to do that? Didn't it ever occur to you that I still needed you?"

The child I was holding slept and I took her to bed. When I came back, he called me to his seat. I stood there, not knowing what to do. I did not want to disappoint him, yet I did not want to wrong my new fiance. He didn't share the house with me. This was my school house, but he used to visit me every weekend.

I knew I could not resist Jack, if he started working on me. I still loved him, but these were not the old days.

"Are you coming here to sit with me or not, Milly?"

"I want to prepare something for you. We will talk…"

"Come here, forget about everything else first," he commanded.

I had never heard him talk that way. But I wasn't afraid of him. One thing I knew for certain was that Jack would never turn into a rapist, nor a murderer, but his love was dangerous.

I looked at him, still standing where I was and confused. I considered my dilemma: having two husbands, both of whom I loved. But Jack's love had no comparison. I felt his stare pulling me. That had happened some years back. Slowly, I went and sat next to him.

His arm on my shoulders made me shiver. I started feeling some warmth in my blood. I felt sweat gathering up. I was doing the wrong thing and I could not help it.

"Milly," he called. "I have loved you all that time. I have dreamt of you always. Your memories helped me to lead a clean life in prison. But as you said, I am not the same as I used to be. I cannot be loved any longer. Especially by you. I know…"

"But I still love you, Jack, I swear I do." I was nearly weeping. My love for him had come back in storms, making my body shake. I found myself pushing closer to him and, as always, I rested my head on his chest, feeling protected.

"Say that again, Milly."

"What?"

"That you still love me."

"But I am honest, Jack I swear I do." I felt as if I was drunk. It was then that his breath told me he was drunk.

"You love your husband too. You said you do. Isn't that rather odd?"

"But it is only because I have to stay with him."

He didn't talk more at the moment. He kept silent, caressing me as he used to. He hadn't forgotten any bit of it. The Christian fiance I had seemed to fear me. There was no doubt about that. Whenever I wasn't in the mood for his company, I told him so, and he went straight home, without arguing. That had never happened between me and Jack; he was irresistible.

He turned my head and kissed me. His alcoholic breath was wonderful. I got hold of his neck and pulled him to me. I was violent and almost hurt him. He didn't resist, he let me amuse myself while he continued caressing me. It was as if I was in dreamland.

The door opened and our son entered. He had been away to visit his grandmother in Bahati. We didn't move from our position; I for one felt rudely interrupted. Then Jack pushed me away gently.

The son recognized his father. He dropped the paper bag in his hands and rushed forward calling out:

"Dad, you have come home at last? I missed you." The father stood to take him. They were going to be of the same height. The boy was fourteen years then and was growing physically strong, and tall.

"Dad, will you go away again?" They had now dismissed me.

"I am afraid so, my son?"

"Why? Back to prison?"

"No. Back to where I stay." The son looked at me, then back at his father. I felt like crying.

"But dad, must you go?"

"Yes son. I have to go. This is your mother's home, not mine."

"But you can stay with us here. Please, dad, do not go."

I hid my head between my hands and started to pray for myself; my son and his father, and my fiance. I wished this had not happened. The boy loved his father so much that he had completely refused to accept my fiance as his father. We were worried about it, but there was nothing we could do. The fiance understood and ignored the boy's daily accusations that he wasn't his true father. But we never failed to wonder when this boy's attitude would change. Like father like son; perhaps he wasn't going to change.

I prayed for a long time. I was glad they did not interrupt me. When I had finished, I stood up and went to the bedroom. The things they were discussing were hurting me. The son wanted to know whether the father was going away because of the other man, or whether I had refused to accommodate him. The father didn't want to know of the

other man, but whatever he told his son seemed to hurt him. It did not take five minutes before the son came to me, crying and announcing his hatred for me.

I felt so bad. The happiness I had faded away. I found myself wishing Jack would make his stand clear. Yes, I was ready to forget everything and stay with him, if he accepted it. The son meant so much to me and I hated to see his happiness disturbed, especially now that he was sitting for his CPE. That would interfere with his performance in the examinations. Furthermore I still loved Jack and there was nothing which could please me more than having him again, and with a happy son, as we had earlier longed for. But, would he forget and forgive me for the daughter I had got? Would his pride allow him to stoop that low?

"Son," I called. "Go back to your dad and tell him I want him to stay. Tell him to come with all his belongings and stay with us. Go."

He stopped crying and went to his father. I could hear them talk. Then Jack sent for me. When I got there, he sent the son away with fifty shillings. He turned to me.

"Milly, are you serious about having me back?"

It was a difficult question, which needed time to answer. But I did not give myself the time. "Yes. If you are ready to forgive me. Cant you see how much we are hurting our son? He loves you dearly," I said.

He pulled me to him and kissed me. My heartbeats were almost audible. I got hold of his waist and again pulled him to myself. I looked at his face closely and sensed something unusual. He wasn't the same man; I mean, he wasn't the same Jack I knew in the sixties. This was Jack of the eighties. He had a face that had bitterness written all over it. He was a tired Jack, who would no longer be happy. Jack who wouldn't forgive and who wouldn't forget.

But still looking responsible. I too sensed that he had some bad news for me and that was probably why he had sent the son out.

"Jack," I called and kissed his cheek. "Please do not hurt me. Do not tell me what you want to. I can see you have something bad in store for me, but please let it wait. It will kill me, Jack."

"No, Milly. I must tell it to you. We must talk." "But I love you, Jack. There is no question about that and you know it. Why don't we bury the differences we have right now and start all over again?"

"I wronged you once, Milly. I do not want to repeat it." "But I understand. I have also wronged you, dear. Can't we forget that and start becoming one from this minute onward?"

"The heart is willing, dear Milly, but the spirit is protesting. Have you ever felt like that?"

"Not where you arexoncerned, Jack. Please let us…" "No, Milly. Never. I am not good for you now. Prison changed me, Milly. I want to lead a solitary life. My love was disturbed by roaring warders and uncooperative prisoners. I lose my temper easily and become violent. 1 do not want this to happen in your presence. Please try to understand. I have always loved you. I do not know how long it will take me to forget that you were once mine. I want to forget you, Milly. I want to forget my son as well. I will not want to see you again, because that will always remind me of you. When I go, remain with my love, give the love to your fiance, and try to be happy. I'll be happy leading a solitary life waiting for another Milly, if there will ever be one. All I would like you to…"

"Jack, has my daughter anything to do with your decision?"

"God! No. I love her. You got her after nine years, which makes me love you all the more. No one can imagine a beautiful young girl like you to be faithful for so long."

I held him more tightly. I couldn't believe he was serious. But he was understanding, he wanted me to be happy, which I wasn't going to be, knowing that there would soon be someone else in his heart. Someone who would experience "true love" from a true lover. She wouldn't have to worry because it was evident that Jack had reformed. I was jealous.

"You do not want to see me again, Jack?"

"No, dear. Never!"

"What do I tell our son?"

"I do not have a son, Milly. He is your son. Make him understand that."

"But he won't. We have tried that a hundred times."

"Keep on trying. Why give up hope so early? When I keep away, he will get used to the phoney father." That was an insult which I ignored.

He pushed me away from him after kissing me. I knew what was happening in him and he did not want it to get over him. He went to the door and opened it. He looked outside, then turned to me. He stared at me as if I were a stranger to him. At last, he managed a smile. The lovely smile I once knew and admired, I felt like going to him and crushing his ribs with my hold. But I didn't move. Some instinct in me told me that it was all over. He wasn't mine, but I wanted to see him again, just like when I had first met him in school. My courage came back and I called.

"Jack…I know it is all over, but please do me a last favour."

He hesitated, the smile still calling me to him but I resisted with immeasurable effort.

"The last favour…" he repeated after me. "Mention it and let it be the last, for my sake."

"My younger sister, Mumbi, who was only five when you went to prison, will be having a pre-wedding party next Saturday. Promise me you will attend."

The smile went away. His face darkened and looked pale. The bitterness I had noticed came to life. It was evident he did not expect a request of ever meeting me again. But, he had committed himself and I knew he wouldn't back out.

"Where will that be?"

"At the Railway Club. I'll be there from 3.00 p.m. till the party is over." "See you then," he said and left.

The sound of Tonny's Volkswagen called Zollo Junior from his bedroom, where he was doing his studies. It was 8.00 p.m. and we had had supper. Junior hated Tonny (my fiance) and this night I knew there would be trouble between the two, especially now that Junior had met his father and was expecting him this same night.

I too didn't feel like having Tonny that night. I had much to think about Jack's reappearance in my life and I wanted to be left alone. I could also sense some quarrel between me and Junior and I was worried. He had insisted that when his dad came he should be called, no matter what time it was. He talked to me as the sound of Tonny locking his car's door reached us.

"Mum, do not open for Tonny. My dad won't be happy if he meets him here."

"Ill open for him, prepare a cup of tea for him and then ask him to go. Do not misbehave, son. Please be kind to him."

"But dad won't like it, mum. I am going to tell him…"

"Please, go back to your studies and leave this to me. Tonny likes you very much; why do you hate him? Please go. I'll call you when dad comes." That made him go, but he was still unhappy.

Jack arrived at the pre-wedding party at around 8.00 p.m. I was outside the hall when the car arrived. At first I couldn't recognise the two people in it; the couple I mean. The car was parked a few metres from where I stood. A young, tall girl stepped out. She looked beautiful, which was the first thing I noticed about her. Her way of dressing was admirable and the way she had done her hair told me, without doubt, that she wasn't giving the latest fashion a chance to pass her by. Our eyes met and we seemed to like each other. She didn't wait for her companion, as he locked the offside door. She came to me. We shook hands as if we had met before, then I welcomed her into the hall. With me, she didn't have to buy a carnation, which was a requirement at the door. I decided to let he^ pass; her boyfriend, husband, or fiance would pay for his. It would save him twenty shillings.

"I am Miriam Nyambiu, the eldest sister to the bride," I introduced myself, as we entered the hall.

"I am Jacqueline Mbogo. It's kind of you to show me inside. Thank you."

"Welcome. It was a plaesure to meet you."

I took her to a room where the host was entertaining his relatives and closest friends. As she met the others, I went out to meet her friend, still unsure whether Jack had arrived. It was because of him that I spent most of the evening outside the hall. I was sure he would come for he had promised to and he knew how to keep his word.

I met him at the door as he paid for a flower. I quickened my steps and reached him before he handed over the money.

"I'll pay for you. I invited you," I called.

"Oh, hello there. I must have kept you waiting."

"Not for long. How do you do?"

"I do well. Welcome to the party."

"Thank you." He followed me. I was excited. This was the very Jack who had introduced me to the world and taken care of me when I was in school, the man who was to be my husband, a man I had sinned and got a son with. He was with me again, looking almost as young as when I had met him. He had dressed himself so impressively that walking beside him made me feel great. I was crazy about this lover boy.

"Tonight is going to be our last day meeting," I told myself. I was going to exploit every minute he was here. Dance with him throughout, get him in private and really have him; exhaust him as I have never done to anyone before, even to him. I wanted this day to be a day to remember in life. I took his hand and led him to the VIP room. As far as I was concerned, there were no more visitors coming. I wasn't going to wait outside the hall again; Jack was with me.

My fiance Tonny had arrived early in the evening. He had stayed with us for about three hours and since he neither drank beer nor danced, he had found the place boring, and left. I had also passed word to him that I would be very much engaged and he should not expect to see much of me throughout the night. He had not argued. "This night," I had said to myself, "I am all for Jack. It is our day of saying goodbye forever." I wasn't sure of that either; it would be hard to forget a person you love.

I gave Jack a seat and then called my sister and her husband-to-be. My excitement told them the man at hand was to be respected. When I mentioned his name, their mouths were wide open. Who hadn't heard about him, anyway?

I left them talking. I was sure they were not going to let him get out of their sight. They were always eager to see this man who had got me crazy; the man I had always gone to see in prison; the man I was to marry over fourteen years ago.

I passed where Jacqueline was. She was talking with another young man, but a look at her told me she wasn't enjoying it. 1 could see she was missing someone, the boyfriend she had come with, who up to now hadn't entered, as far as I was concerned. It was my mistake, because the man didn't know where I had taken her. So, it was my duty to trace him for her and bring him. Jacqueline was a girl whom I had liked at first sight and 1 wanted her to be happy. She looked like a girl who'd dance beautifully and I wanted to watch her.

"Hello, Jacqueline, I am sorry we lost your friend. I shouldn't have brought you straight in; he must be looking for you everywhere. Mind to come with me to the hall and look for him? I never saw his face so I can't know him."

Jacqueline looked confused, till I wondered why. I thought I had wronged her to have mentioned her boyfriend in the presence of the young man she was talking to. Then she seemed to get the picture. She told me:

"Thank you, Miriam, you are wonderful. You brought my man three minutes ago."

"Is it? I am not aware. The work I've done here has left me confused."

"Thanks a lot for your concern. I am talking with a 'new friend' here. He is Lawrence Wanyoike."

"A pleasure to meet you Lenny. I am Miriam Nyambiu." We shook hands, then I turned to Jacqueline.

"I thought you'd introduced me to your real…"

"But I thought you knew each other. You just walked in hand-in-hand with him. I am sorry. Excuse me Mr Wanyoike, let me introduce my friend hereto my fiance."

My heart was racing as she stood up. The picture now had come clearly to my mind. But I could not believe it. It was the truth, but I did not want to accept it. I

followed her, my hand in hers as she was leading me to Jack, who was seated, much engaged in talk with my younger sister, Njambi and her husband-to-be, Alex Mwangi, "The man from Illard" as we used to call him.

"Lord," I prayed, "Please do not let this happen to me. Let this dream come to an end before I faint. Oh…Lord." Lord heeded my short prayers, I did not collapse on my knees, which had almost given in. I got courage and managed to smile. The first thing I noticed when my eyes focussed again was Jack's smile. It was different from the one I knew; this one was the most wonderful thing I ever saw. But it wasn't meant for me, it was meant for Jacqueline Mbogo. All those years, it had been reserved for her. Yes! This man was not meant for me. If he were, I'd have known that smile. I gave up. I knew Jack had been serious when he had said that he wanted to forget me. There was Jacqueline, young and beautiful, and kindhearted, learning from the few minutes I had known her. Well, I couldn't blame him. I was 32 and about to show my age on the face. Jacqueline was about twenty, if not younger. That made all the difference in life, in Jack's life. I didn't know whether to be happy or angry, but the truth was written all over my face; I was damn jealous.

The pre-wedding lost taste, as far as I was concerned.

I knew Jacqueline wasn't going to give me time to take Jack aside. There wasn't any need for that anyway. Why have pride out of a borrowed dress? A dress that can be asked back any time the owner wanted it. There was only one thing to do now, to seek leave and move out of the party, to take a taxi and go back to Junior for comfort.

I excused myself, after introductions. Jacqueline followed me outside and to the hall. People were dancing in couples, most of them with bottles of beer in their hands. The whole party was wonderful; everyone was happy, except Miriam, ME.

I saw Jacqueline to the "Ladies" and waited for her. We hadn't talked much, I was afraid that if we did, I would give myself away. As we went back to the dancing hall, we met Jack. He stopped to take my hand, then he led me to the floor and we started dancing, the last dance in my life.

A borrowed dress, I thought as I saw Jacqueline coming to demand it from me in the daylight. "She's coming for you, Jack. She's a nice girl. When are you marrying her?"

"She's my wife, I am staying with her. But if you mean a wedding, that will never happen in my life. I guess you know why."

"Who is she?"

"She is my wife. My own."

"I have heard that. I mean what does she do?" I sounded annoyed.

"Exactly what she is supposed to do. To serve me as her only husband." I knew he had understood what I wanted to know but was only giving me a hard time.

"Where is she working? Is it bad to ask? Does it hurt you?" "Three questions at a go. You are curious. It doesn't hurt

me, and it is not bad to ask. Milly, there is one thing we are omitting in

Jacqueline's name, otherwise you would not have asked. She's Doctor Mbogo." He spoke with a touch of pride.

But, Jesus! A doctor at her age! Anyway, who had told me her age, but myself. She reached where we had stopped, dancing but going round on the same spot to give ourselves time to talk.

"I am a jealous, Lady Miriam. Just excuse me. This husband of mine is very slippery. He hardly gets out of my sight. I wouldn't allow that, every lady I meet seems to have a go at him. Can't allow it."

"Jesus!" I thought loudly. "What a bad thing to tell me? She shouldn't have told me that. Why? She should know I was the first woman in his life. Does she think at his age he hasn't had other women? Doesn't that show how little she knows about Jack? I'll let her know, I'll make her understand she shouldn't go out talking like that, despite what she is. A doctor or not, she amounts to the same thing; a wife of a man just like any of us." I knew she didn't mean to be rude: she was only humorous but my jealousy had outdone me.

I just stood there, undecided on whether to carry on or to let her know that Jack was mine for the past decade and a half, up to this moment when they were dancing.

They passed near without looking at me. Jacqueline's head was resting on his shoulder and she was bending a little, because he was slightly shorter. Her breasts were squeezed against his chest as they danced a slow waltz. They didn't seem to notice me, though I was sure that they were aware of my presence.

Jack had left me; the dance I had with him was a sign of "Goodbye". I wished he had not reappeared in my life,

which would no longer be the same again. "A life with a criminal," I thought, "is wonderful but short-lived."

Junior! Oh my Junior! Where are you? Come and give me comfort. I started off for the door. You'd think I had realized I was stepping on a rattlesnake. At the door I stopped to look behind; I wanted to make sure I wasn't dreaming, that Jack was in the hall, dancing with a lady he called his wife. Yes! it was true, it was Jack, the Jack of the eighties and not sixties; a reformed Jack, as the word went. Our eyes met. I thought I saw him wink to rebuke me. Then he raised up his right hand and started waving me goodbye. Jacqueline noticed what was going on and turned. She smiled and waved her hand too. I looked at them waving; they looked the best couple in the hall, but to me, the worst, yes — even foolish. Why rebuke me? I turned and left. A taxi had just brought another couple. It was nearing 10.00 p.m. As far as I was concerned, the party was no more. But there was Junior for me, ever for me. Why not go back to him and feel Jack's presence as I used to all the time he was in prison?

The uncouth, ruthless, irresponsible and stupid Jack Zollo. Who does he think he is? Isn't he, after all, a criminal? Who can reform that bastard, anyway? The maneater. To hell with him!

But did all my insults amount to anything? They were unjust and I knew it. They wouldn't help me; they couldn't make me forget the real good man he was. The truth of what he had said dawned on me. Indeed, anyone thinking of the future is a dreamer. I was a dreamer: I had put too much attention on my future and ended up weeping myself dry. Look at Jack, who has never wasted time thinking of the future, and see how happy he is now; his memories of the rotten past buried deep in the ocean. ' Jac-

queline," I said as to them "I envy you, but you are a nice girl. No doubt about that; you are lucky and you'll soon know. God bless the two of you. As for me, I have Junior to think about."

I hailed the taxi as it made to take off. Forty shillings was all I needed to reach home. Goodbye, Jack Zollo.