"Isn’t that a fascinating wrinkle?" Lucy chortled with satisfaction. "We’re making an impression, Laura, my girl. When four burly men come in shamefaced at what their compatriots have done, that’s progress!" She shifted the heavy cloth folds. "Here," she said, "start hemming."

Dutifully Laura fitted a thimble on her finger and took the offered needle. She enjoyed the camaraderie of these four women.

"Speaking of servicemen," Rowena said. "Here comes a handsome one now!"

Laura glanced up, and her eyes grew round. There was Shawn striding purposefully toward her, without glancing to the right or left, as if he were afraid that this jungle of vipers might attack him.

"Welcome," Alice Paul said dryly, sensing his discomfort. "We can always use another hand."

Shawn did not so much as acknowledge Alice’s presence.

"Shawn," Laura began, flustered. "I’d like to introduce you…."

Abruptly he cut her off. "Laura, I need to talk to you."

Flushing to the roots of her hair at his disregard for her friends, and embarrassed at his disrespect for Alice Paul, she frowned. "Shawn," she said, trying to control her anger, "I’m busy."

Lucy’s laugh boomed forth. "Run along, Laura. We’ll still be here when you return."

Pushing back her chair, she ignored Shawn’s hand and moved quickly toward the door. What on earth did he want that couldn’t wait until she was home?

"Shawn, what is it?" she demanded impatiently. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything is wonderful." His step was jaunty. "I just had to talk to you."

"Fine," she said curtly. "Let’s sit over here and have a cup of tea."

He glanced around disdainfully. "I can’t talk in this place. You know I don’t approve of suffragists!"

"I realize that," she said coolly. "So why did you come here?"

He grinned at her. "Come on, the car’s outside and we’ll take a spin down by the river."

"Well," she said hesitantly. "I really should stay and complete what I’ve started."

He looked deeply into her eyes. "For once in your life put me ahead of the suffragists. This means a lot to me, Laura. I promise I’ll have you back within the hour."

"Only for ten minutes," she admonished.

Curious, she went out to the limousine with Shawn.

As they sat in the warm car, overlooking the gray, sluggish river, she faced him. "All right, Shawn, what was so important that it couldn’t wait until tonight?"

"I’ve got my discharge papers," he said simply, his face aglow with a broad smile.

"That’s marvelous," she said, catching his boyish enthusiasm and almost clapping her hands. How quickly his mood changed and how quickly he could make her forget their differences.

"I’m leaving next week for New York to see Mom and Dad." He toyed with the steering wheel. "I’ll be there for Thanksgiving and Christmas but will take the train back to Washington in time to start the new term at Georgetown University."

"That’s so wonderfully quick," she said, "to be released from the army and shed that uniform." She touched the chevron on his sleeve.

"I’m ready to exchange this hat for a bowler," he said lightly, tilting his military hat far back on his head, causing a wavy lock to fall forward. "And to throw away this scratchy wool uniform for white flannels and a boating jacket."

She laughed cheerfully. "You’ll make a handsome student — quite the man about campus," she said approvingly.

"And you’re quite the most beautiful girl in Washington." He pulled her forward, kissing her lips.

Her eyes closed, fluttering excitement cascading through her veins.

When she opened her eyes, a smile twitched around Shawn’s generous mouth. "I’ve never known anyone like you, Laura." His eyes softened. "You’re the only girl for me. University life will be filled with good times. There won’t be a dance we’ll miss. When I begin my law degree, I want to know that you’re waiting for me." His eyes twinkled.

A laugh bubbled up inside as she leaned back against the velour seat. "Shawn," she said teasingly, "I’ll wait for you if you’ll wait for me!" She gave him a mischievous sidelong glance.

Puzzled, he stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

"You see, Shawn," she said proudly, "I’ve decided to enroll in law school, too."

"You’ve decided what?" he said lazily, grinning.

"I’m going to become a lawyer," she said earnestly.

He threw back his head, laughing uproariously. Finally he caught his breath, wiping his eyes. "Laura, tell me you’re joking! Not my beautiful doll an attorney-at-law!" He ducked his head forward, peering at her. "You are joking, aren’t you?"

"I’ve never been more serious in my life," she answered gravely.

For a long moment the silence was broken only by the oars of a boatman rowing.

Was this what Shawn thought of her? A beautiful doll? Her blood rose, warming her face and touching the tips of her ears. She had known all along that he had disapproved of suffragists. What had he called them? A bunch of cackling old hens. Well, she was a suffragist, but he refused to admit it. He’d said she was meant to keep a man happy and to have a man’s arms wrapped around her. She wouldn’t listen to this anymore, she thought bitterly. No more would she subject her interests to his. That was what he expected. The memory of his jealousy and the way he provoked a fight with Joe played again in her head. That night of Sarah’s illness when Shawn had deliberately kissed her on the dance floor was merely to taunt Joe. It was meant to transmit a message: "Hands off, she’s mine!"

Shawn, taking hold of her shoulders, gently turned her to face him. He chuckled. "Why so sober? We’ll work this out. After all, you haven’t even graduated from high school."

That was his solution, she thought, her heart plummeting. She was only a silly schoolgirl who would be easy to convince to follow his wishes. Tears brimmed, threatening to spill over, but she no longer cared. "I know exactly what my career will be," she said quietly. Shawn had to understand that there wasn’t a doubt in her mind and that she wasn’t his pawn. "Please," she begged, "take me back to Headquarters."

He moved his head close to hers. "Laura, sweetness…." He ran his hand up her arm.

"Take me back now," she repeated firmly.

He dropped his hand and petulantly ground the car into action, veering toward Jackson Street.

As she jumped out of the car Shawn called, "I’ll phone you tonight."

She broke into a run, a sob tearing at her throat. It was over, and Shawn didn’t realize it. Tears blinded her as she opened the door, closing it softly behind her. For a few seconds she stood with her back against the door, spirits low, but she determinedly wiped her eyes and moved into the tearoom.

After working two hours sewing banners, fingers flying, and losing herself in conversation, she bade everyone good night and slowly walked home.

As she turned into Cherry Alley she passed the Menottis' store and saw Joe’s head bent over the ledgers.

For a moment she stared sadly at him, tears glistening, then walked on.

That night she couldn’t sleep. The image of Joe loomed before her. He was the one who respected and loved her. He was the right man for her… had been all along. Now it was too late. The love she’d once seen shining in his eyes had long ago disappeared, and she was to blame for extinguishing it.

Restlessly she threw back the covers, pacing the floor. She stopped to stare through the window at the trees. The stark, leafless branches against a dim, moonlit sky were as bleak and barren as her soul. Dejectedly she sat before the window.

It wasn’t until hot tears spilled down her face that she realized dawn was breaking. Her recriminations against herself did little good. It was over with Shawn. It was over with Joe. Now she was left with no one, and that served her right. Everything was her own fault and she couldn’t blame anyone else — certainly not Shawn. Shakily she drew in a deep breath and rose, her muscles stiff and sore.

A resolve slowly grew in her mind as sunlight poured across the room. She must see Joe and tell him she hadn’t meant to hurt him. She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. She smiled bitterly. Perhaps neither Shawn nor Joe were hurt at all. Perhaps they didn’t care what Laura Mitchell did. If anyone was hurt, it was herself!

Hastily she brushed her hair. A sleepless night had done little for her appearance, but she wasn’t concerned.

With a quickening pulse she dressed and hurried downstairs, knowing what she must do.

Reaching the Menottis' store, she realized it was too early to be open, but if she knew Joe, he would already be there.

With a quick glance through the window she saw him sweeping the floor.

She pounded on the door, each blow matching the hammering of her heart. As she watched breathlessly Joe leaned the broom against the counter and gracefully moved toward her.

Unlocking the door, he held it open, wonderment written all over his face. "Laura!" he said, raising his thick brows. "What are you doing here?"

"Are you so surprised I want to see you, Joe?" she asked softly.

His face was expressionless, except for his gentle black eyes, which never left her face. He shrugged.

She groaned inwardly. Was he so indifferent to her that the only answer to her question was a shrug? Did he no longer care a whit about her?

"I-I’ve just said good-bye to Shawn," she said, a quiver in her voice, "for good." She gazed at him with trembling lips. Why didn’t he say something? Anything?

Digging her nails into her palm, she forced herself to continue. "I’ve missed you, Joe Menotti." Her voice quavered.

Joe examined her with a faintly amused smile.

She flung out her hands in a helpless gesture. "You’ve been the one all along," she said simply. "You were constantly in my thoughts, even when I was with Shawn."

With a whimper she moved into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Why didn’t you tell me what he was like?"

Joe stroked her long hair as she nestled against his shoulder. At last he spoke. "You had to discover what Shawn was like for yourself. No one can tell you what to believe, Laura. You know that."

A hot tear coursed down her cheek. Joe was only comforting her — still the big brother. Why did she always have to ruin things? Joe had loved her once. She knew he had. She lifted her head, gazing into his face, teardrops sparkling on her eyelids.

His lean handsome face and the small smile hovering about that firm mouth was almost more than she could bear.

"I love you, Joe," she said in a voice husky with emotion.

Gently he traced her lips with his slender fingers. "I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that." Suddenly his dark head lowered and he tenderly kissed her.

"Joe," she whispered against his lips as his arms tightened around her. Once again their lips touched. How could she ever have doubted his love?

"I’m sorry I was such a fool," she admitted, sniffling.

"Laura Mitchell! Do you know what you just called yourself? A fool!" He grinned, and his even, white teeth flashed in the dim light. "I’m going to savor that phrase because I know I’ll never hear it again. Tomorrow you’ll be back to being independent Laura — just the way I love you!"

I’ve wasted all this time, she thought, reproaching herself, but now at last she knew Joe was the only one for her! He had always been here, and she had been blind to his warmth and consideration and love. I’m so lucky, she thought, for Joe actually loved her. Her heart thundered as she again nestled within the circle of his arms.

Laughter danced in his eyes, and his arms tightened around her waist. "Laura, darling," he murmured softly in her hair.

She had loved Joe in the past, she loved him now, and she would always love him. She gazed at him solemnly as if pledging this love.

Once more Joe’s dark head bent to kiss her.

"Tomorrow night I’m the one who is going to take you dancing," Joe said firmly.

Laura moved a little out of his arms. "There’s a suffragist rally tomorrow night, Joe. I want to be there. I have to," she said, worried about his reaction.