go in the afternoon. Maybe he'll pick up the evening paper and turn on the stereo. After about twenty or thirty minutes, he'll go into the kitchen to munch on something," thought Dolores. Her breath was short, and her pace fast and irregular. She checked, herself and then went on thinking. She was sure of every move her husband would make. "He'll go in and open the 'frige, surely, and he'll close it again because he won't find anything that doesn't take some preparation. He'll close the door and lean on the machine looking at the wall thinking where could I be. Then he'll find the envelope with his name on it, and he'll take it back to the living room to open it. Like I said, Dan, I love you, but I made a mistake. I'm sorry for what I'm doing, but it's my fault and not yours. I guess I just wasn't ready for marriage to you or to anyone. Even though I do love you, I just can't stand to think of being only Mrs. Dan Wells the rest of my life. When you find this note, my plane will probably be taking off. I'm going to Denver, Dear, to live with the folks, and then I'm going up to Fort Collins for the Spring Quarter. There's a casserole in the oven. It will be ready by five-fifty. Please don't follow me or try to get in touch with me. It's better this way. She didn't know just what he would do after he read her note. Dolores walked into the west entrance, along the hall and to the desk of Hotel Utah. "Excuse me please, could you tell me when the next limousine comes?" "Yes Ma'am. You just missed one, I'm afraid. The next arrives in twenty minutes. Have a seat by the entrance if you wish to wait." Dolores walked back down the hall and sat on the padded benches near the door. She looked,but she wasn't very interested, so she decided to look at her ticket, her passport to freedom. She opened her handbag and thumbed through the anonymous collection of papers. She couldn't see the ticket, so she started taking things out of the pouch, one by one. There was a small cosmetic circular that she had picked up at ZCMI's. A few note papers, each with one or two small reminders, leaving most of the paper wasted and unused, a driver's license and some plastic windows, were also waded into the handbag. The long red and grey station wagon that was the airport limousine pulled up to the curb next to the canopy. The commotion of people leaving alerted Dolores. There was a small line at the rear of the car where the fares were checking their baggage to the driver. The afternoon was waning and Dolores hoped the cold darkness would not fall before she took off. Finally the baggage was in and the passengers were being whisked around Temple Square and then west into the afternoon on North Temple. Dolores felt as though she were in the air and on her way already. For the first time she was afraid. "I hope to God," she thought, "Poor Dan wouldn't be happy if I were continually disappointed with our marriage. He'll be sad for awhile, but he'll get over it. If he wants a divorce, it's only right." 24 She broke the fingernail she was chewing. Quickly she lit a cigarette and glanced around the car to see if the others were looking. They weren't. It was only a short ride and they didn't need anyone to impress yet. There were still the flights ahead of them. Dolores intermittently puffed on her cigarette and drew back into thought. "I hope Dan asks for his divorce; it would surely clear the air. If he doesn't, he'll wait. He may even wait until I graduate," she thought. "Please be angry, Dan." The limousine slipped into the airport exit lane and curved with the road toward the new terminal. The passengers began to mumble to themselves and to each other. They stopped in the unloading zone and slid from their places to the sidewalk. Dolores held tightly to her bag and shaped her hair with her other hand as she stepped on the mat that opened the door. "I've got to stop this," she thought. "I'll end up not going. I'll drive Dan and myself both mad." She marched across the marble diagram of the world in the floor and headed toward the book stand. As she was afraid it would, the time passed very slowly. The gayly colored paperbacks with their name-dropping and their pictures of all-sin barely managed to hold her attention. She drifted over them all too quickly to consume the minutes. She took on an air of nonchalance and decided to appear very much today's co-ed. She smoked to make sure that everyone knew she didn't give a damn and she carefully dangled her purse over her shoulder. She wandered away from the bookstand carrying a study of Plato with a very large Plato written in red on black. She wandered through the maze of efficient and comfortable couches that face the huge tinted window wondering, on purpose, just where each traveler came from and where he was going. She wondered if any of them were on their way to a beginning. She made a wide semicircle through the crowd and arrived back at the bookstand. She found the ladies' room along the wall there, so she decided to go in and freshen up before her departure was announced. She pushed the door with her booked hand and held it out of the way long enough to appear careless. In the room was a long row of mirrors with basins beneath them. She trudged up to the center and dropped her purse and her book on the glass shelf over the basin. She looked in the mirror. The face was a disappointment. It wasn't gay or childish, or even co-edish. The lipstick was too dark and the powder wasn't tan. The face of a woman was in the glass, silly and expressionless, but nevertheless, a woman. Dolores thought of how much their few months of marriage had taken out of her. "It was Dan who made this face for me," she recalled. "He doesn't like youth too much. No, Dan likes his women to look quite domesticated." And she thought, "He even liked my figure better after three months of marriage." She washed her face and reapplied her make-up feeling sure in herself that Dan would not be happy at all knowing who Dolores was and what she was like. She was very sure. She felt lively after the water on her face. She went into the crowd again, but this time with direction. She Walked to the other side of the large room very intentionally to get a Coke. With forty 25