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week," he answered with a quick grin which returned just as suddenly
to a serious expression that showed his mind wasn't on the smile.

Jo stopped and looked up at him. "Is something wrong, Gene?
Something happen today? You seem so quiet," she questioned anx-
iously, taking a firm grip with her suntanned hands on his long mus-
cular arms.

"No, not really, Jo." He hesitated. "But you see, I just decided
while I was carrying those heavy bags up those old tiresome steps
today that I have about had enough of this kind of work. And then
when that little old shriveled-up woman only handed me that sickly
quarter with 'for you, sonny-boy,' or some such remark- Jo, it was
just more that I could take. I went in and told Mr. Hanna that he'd
have to find another bellhop for the rest of the summer, 'cause I am
finished." He didn't look at her and kicked a shell nervously with
his foot across the sand.

So, what I was always afraid he was going to realize has finally
conquered him, she thought. If you don't need the money, these jobs
aren't worth the time and trouble, I guess. And that comment about
the shriveled-up old lady, that's something he won't ever be able to
overcome either. You have to be dependent on people before you
really can see that money isn't all they can give you. Finally she
pushed this all in the back of her mind and said, ''I'm not too sur-
prised, Gene. I've often wondered why you stuck out your job this
long. But I've always hoped that you were growing to see where it
had more merits than merely what you were getting paid ... Not
that you're money-hungry: you know I don't mean that, Gene, but
just that you as a person were growing so much by finding out some of
the satisfactions of independence ... something I don't think you've
ever known until now." She almost scared herself when she thought
of the frankness that overtook her tongue when she heard the words
against the soft slapping of the waves.

He waited a long time before he answered. Then he said, "Jo,
I've tried, honest to God I have. But in spite of as much as I've wanted
to stick out the job for the rest of the summer so I could be with you,
on my scale of values it isn't really worth the work I'm doing for
what I'm getting from it. I can't stand another shabby old woman
with a quarter wrapped up in a handkerchief for me. But this doesn't
mean the end of everything for us. I'll write you when I get home and
when I go back to school in the fall and ..... but even when he was
saying it, Jo could see far enough ahead to realize that there would
always be this barrier of a different "scale of values" between them.

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