I Am Longing for the Necklace

Bernice watched wearily as the woman took a letter from her handbag. She had never in her life written a letter to a lover. It would be like giving something of herself awayt be almost an indecency. Bernice read the words aloud, reciting them as if they were a line from a poem. The chasm between herself and missus cork closed up. But at the word flute, a doubt came into her head. Her hand began to tremble, and quickly she handed the letter back. Missus cork was still large with unbelief,. but as she studied the poster, despair settled on her face. I found it in his pocket, she