To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. Despite her busy work schedule, Sheila had always been a social person, a talker, a joiner of neighborhood groups, a town council member, a PTA worker, and a thrower of neighborhood coffee klatches. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path. "I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp. " "You have made no such arrangements as will compromise me, I hope, Sir Rowland?" said Wild, hastily. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to scream for. She paused.
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