Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 67 — page 52: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A WOMAN’S WORK ~- three years she had known what happiness a complete submission could bring. She herself could never reach the stars, but John, aided and helped by her, could. In his success she would find her own. The lights were too bright and they hurt her eyes, but she had not complained before because John had needed bright light by which to read. Nowshe dimmed them, cutting out the central light and plunging the room into semi- darkness. Tiredly, she sank into a chair, letting her body relax for the first time that evening, and alone in the semi-darkness, yielded her- self to the pleasure of her thoughts. John had asked her why. And she had not answered. She wondered if, knowing the truth, he would still hold her in such high regard. Men, all men, had childish, petulant emotions. They could bear to be loved for themselves, little as they had to offer, but they could not bear to be loved for ee what they possessed or for what they could achieve. Mar- garet did not love John, had never loved him in the manner he desired. She had loved what he represented, and because of her empathy with him had felt genuine affection for him during the past three years. That affection had permitted her to shelter him, cherish him, give to him what she would hesitate to give to another, but it was not love. She dared not let it be love. She dared not, after all these years, let her own feminine emotions stand in the way of the greater ideal. She had controlled her emo- tions and used them for the greater end. Now it was over. Now she, through him, would taste success. The past three years had been far from wasted. And yet, despite her cold logic and the firmness of her purpose, she could not help thinking of him. Not even in sleep. Morning came, and with it the terrible self-searching be- comicloooks.cormn