The Gypsy Moon by Gilbert Morris Page A

on your own side of the seat. At least in daylight.”
    Lang brightened up. “Oh, all I have to do is wait until dark, and then you’ll come to my manly arms!”
    Gabby rolled her eyes and turned her attention back tothe road. She had mixed emotions about Lang. He seemed serious enough at times, but the way he lived troubled her. She found herself drawn to him, for he was charming and highly intelligent. He worked in his father’s factory, and one day he would own it, but still there was something that kept her from making a commitment. She knew he cared for her, but she didn’t know if his interest was anything more than temporary. She also was aware that he had dated a number of women, which bothered her greatly.
    ****
    The fete was a rousing success, and at the end of it, Reverend Citroen came across the park to applaud her efforts. “Congratulations! You must have taken in a bundle. You were busy all day.”
    “Yes, Reverend, I was busy, but I had lots of fun. I know the missionaries will make good use of the money we made.”
    “I know you’re right about that.” He put his hands in his pockets. “A few of us are going to get together tonight to celebrate a successful fund-raiser. I’d like you to come if you could.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I have another engagement.”
    “Well, some other time, then. Thank you so much for all your efforts. They’re greatly appreciated.”
    As the pastor turned away, Lang approached Gabby. “Guess who I found down the way. An old friend of yours.”
    He turned and grinned as a woman appeared from behind him.
    “Betje!” Gabby exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
    Betje was wearing an artistic sort of dress, loose fitting but gaily colored. She laughed and said, “Why are you so shocked that I would come to a church event? Where have you been? I haven’t seen you for so long.”
    The two women embraced and spent a few moments catching up while Lang stood by idly. Betje had become an artist. She had spent several years learning to paint in France. It wasalso apparent she had picked up some bad habits, and Gabby noticed a hardness in her friend she hated to see.
    “Listen, we’re going out on Frederick’s boat. You must come with us—you and Lang.”
    Gabby shook her head. “You know I can’t do that.” Frederick Godfried was a wealthy friend of Lang’s who owned a yacht, albeit a small one. The boat had earned a bad reputation, for it was the scene of frequent parties that ended in drunkenness and immorality, so it was believed.
    “Come along,” Lang said. “You need to relax. We’ll have a good time.”
    Betje nodded. “Gabby, you work all the time. You need to have some fun once in a while.”
    The argument went on for a considerable time, and finally Betje grew angry. “You’re going to be a stale, dried-up old woman!” She turned and walked away, leaving Lang alone with Gabby.
    “She put it badly, but she’s right. You need to learn to relax and have some fun. Besides, nothing bad will happen on the yacht. I promise you that.”
    “I don’t think you can promise that, Lang. You know what Frederick is like. You’ve been on that boat before, haven’t you?”
    He flushed. “Once or twice.”
    “And people were always drinking and partying and doing all kinds of things, weren’t they?”
    “We don’t have to take part in any of that.”
    “I wouldn’t find it much fun to be around a bunch of people who are drinking.”
    Suddenly, Lang stepped forward and put his hands on her arm. “Look, you know I want to marry you, don’t you?”
    Gabby was startled at his words. Lang had tempted her before, testing her virtue, but she had always drawn a strict line. Now she stared at him. “You’ve never mentioned marriage before.”
    “Well, it’s time I settled down. I think we’d have a goodmarriage. You know I care deeply for you.” When she was silent, he added, “And I believe you care for me.”
    Gabby was confused by his sudden mention