"None," Fran said, "but I think that whatever'd frightened her to make that threat is gone now."

"You're theorizing," Sue said, "what if the woman just wasn't at that meeting tonight. Maybe something came up; she couldn't make it."

"It really doesn't matter now," Fran said, "I was scared before and all of a sudden I know I'm not scared anymore. I guess it's a lot like the rookie who hears the rumble and roar of fighting up front and who anticipates with excrutiating fear advancing and being in the thick of it." Fran put a burning match. to the cigarette she'd been holding and drew long and slow on it. "But when he finally gets there he finds the enemy's," she drew in again, "retreated and there he is on the very spot that made him almost petrified with fright. In the next encounter, being in the middle of it comes easy. He can even die without that initial agonizing fear." With a flick of her wrist Fran had the match at once out and sailing through the air toward the fireplace.

"You think it's simple as that?"

"Yes. I think so," said Fran. "You see, just being there I had the 'coign of vantage.' It's not so hard to die if we live in a mature way," she said. "The present's what we must endure and make durable. We mustn't obscure it with a fear of the tomorrows or the 'here', with a fear of the 'there', or the 'we', with a fear of the 'they"."

The phone ring divided the silence like a wall; Fran and Sue both seemed to be peering up over it at each other. "You . . . you'd better get that," Sue said. Fran advanced slowly with an almost studied walk to the phone. "Wait!" Sue said stoutly. "Let me. Let me answer it!"

Fran smiled at Sue and a sense of protectiveness was cradled in that smile. "Hello," Sue said to the little black object in her hand.

Throughout Sue's noddings and yesses to the phone. Fran watched her face so intently she didn't blink. Then Sue put the phone down carefully, as though it would break. "It . . . it was the President of your Club," she said. "Something to do about a dramatic sketch for sometime this fall and they want you to organize it. She said she wants you to be thinking about it, and to let her know at the next meeting."

"Whew!" Fran closed her eyes for a long moment.

"Oh, and she mentioned that a Mrs. Hoffman resigned tonight. She said it was good riddance of a malicious gossip."

Both fell silent for a moment and then they began to laugh and cry at once.

About Our Authors

DIANA STERLING, author of WOMEN'S CLUB, is a regular contributor to ONE. Readers will remember her stories "Young Actress" and "An Incident." Miss Sterling resides in Arizona and is 29 years of age.

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