Read The Mulberry Bush for Free Online Page A

high, so lonely and aloof, so filled with secret darkness! Panic ran through her blood like white pain.
    â€œOh, Mike—Mike!”
    â€œGinny—darling!”
    He held her, and then with a quick, crushing kiss, put her out of his arms and ran. The red and white lights of the plane became small, colored stars against the empty mystery of the sky as the plane roared upward. The people on the ground looked at each other dully and then went their ways.
    Somehow, Virginia got back to the station, where her bags had been checked. Somehow, she got back to Washington and up the two flights of stairs to her little apartment. There, under the door, was a yellow envelope.
    Her first thought was that Mike had sent a message to comfort her in her first loneliness, but she saw that the date-line was local, the message had, been sent the day before.
    HARRISON HAD SERIOUS ACCIDENT STOP PLEASE SEE HER AS SOON AS YOU RETURN AT COLUMBIA HOSPITAL STOP IMPORTANT MARY GARGAN.
    Mary Gargan was Teresa’s secretary.
    Virginia looked at her watch. Midnight. She couldn’t see Teresa till morning. She opened her bags dully and put a few things away. She brushed her hair, put on an old pair of pajamas and put out the light, creeping into bed to lie there, emotionally spent, forgetting Teresa, forgetting to speculate about the calamity that had overtaken her employer, because her heart was flying southward with Mike.

Chapter 4
    Teresa Harrison lay on a fracture bed, a bar over her chest, on which she could raise herself a little, her face looking old and bleak under disordered hair, a white hospital gown buttoned up to her chin.
    â€œHello,” she greeted Virginia, “time you got back! Look at me—plastered up like something ready for the Smithsonian—and a million things to do.”
    â€œWhat in the world happened?” Virginia bent to kiss the strained, colorless face. “I came in late last night and found Mary’s message. I got here as soon as they would let me in.”
    â€œThat foul doctor who put bifocal glasses on me is to blame. I’m, not old enough for glasses and I told him so. My headaches come from something else entirely. But he insisted on my wearing the things out of his office, and of course the first pair of steps I went down, I missed my footing. Broke an ankle and a bone in my knee. Lord only knows how long I’ll be here—and all the hotel contracts not closed yet for next summer’s business.”
    â€œYou want me to write the letters? I’m so sorry about this—are you in any pain?”
    â€œPlenty of pain—and my disposition is hellish. No—I don’t want you to write letters. You can’t get anywhere writing letters. I found that out long ago. You have to talk to people, see when they’re bluffing and call their bluffs—and do a little bluffing on your own. There’s psychology in it. And I don’t know whether you’ve got it or not. But you’re the only one I can send. You’ll have to leave for Colorado tonight—and you’d better fly because this is the end of the season up there, and all the places will be closing up. I planned to leave Monday, and then this happened. Go to the office and get the Colorado file, and bring it here this afternoon. Get your reservation on the night plane and have Mary get the money ready for you. I gave her a power of attorney—I had to—nobody else here.”
    â€œI hope I can handle it—I’ve never done anything exactly like that—only the old ladies who run tours—and the schoolteachers.”
    â€œThat was selling. But when you talk to hotels and sightseeing bus companies and guides, you’re buying—they have something to sell. We’re bringing them customers and we can be hard-boiled as the devil. It all depends now on how hard-boiled you can be. I’d have said last week that you hadn’t a trick or a wile—but now