Authors: Marjorie Moore
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Much to her own surprise,
Mary slept soundly that night, and in the morning awoke feeling strangely refreshed, and with a curious sense of pleasurable relief. She stretched her arms above her head an
d
, with a lazy cat-like movement snuggled again beneath the covers. Then, in an illuminating flash, the happenings of the previous evening passed in clearly-cut pictures before her mind
’
s eye
...
Guy
...
so he had kept his promise ... he had really meant what he had said ... A surge of gratitude filled Mary
’
s heart, then suddenly she started up in bed with nervous apprehension ... He had certainly left her alone, and, as her eyes wandered to the smooth coverlet on the bed beside her, she was also assured that this only couch must have been that in the adjoining room. But what about the rest of his promise
...
the hotel bill, the evidence
?
Supposing he had omitted to supply that so important detail? What, though, was the use of this idle conjecture when with one simple action—the turning of the door-knob—she would be able to put her fears at rest? But somehow, in the cold light of morning, her courage had deserted her. If her sacrifice had been in vain
...
she gripped the knob more firmly and threw open the door.
The sitting-room was empty. There was no sign that Guy had ever occupied it, except for an early
morning
tea-tray and the crumpled cushions on the couch. The anticlimax was almost too much for Mary
’
s pent-up emotions;
she sank into the nearest chair as if her knees would no longer support her. That receipt
...
where was it now? She raised her head slowly and allowed her gaze to travel round
...
the mantel, the table; no, nothing there. A chill of despair assailed her until, suddenly, she saw it on the desk, propped against the inkstand. Dear Guy, he had come up to scratch after all. Mary rose and walked slowly to the desk and, with fingers that trembled slightly, picked up the innocent-looking envelope. Mechanically she opened the flap and extracted the two folded pieces of paper which it contained. One was the receipted bill for Mr. and Mrs. Guy Perivale, and the other a brief note from Guy himself.
“
I have kept my side of the bargain, and have no regrets. Good-bye and good luck.
”
As Mary read the words, she experienced a feeling of intense gratitude towards Guy. Yes, he had certainly been true to his word, and, what was more, last night he had given her the best piece of news she had ever had in the whole course of her life
...
that it was not Richard whom Veronica loved. With a neat precision she tore his note into small pieces, then took the bill, and, pulling her dressing-gown more closely round her, returned thoughtfully to the bedroom
...
Well, what was her next move? Joan ... she must see Joan at once
...
see her and explain what had happened. She couldn
’
t wait a moment longer
...
Surely she could explain on the phone? Well, anyway, she could give her an outline of the circumstances; and, lifting the telephone receiver, asked for Dr. Mayton
’
s number. Within a few minutes she heard Joan
’
s voice in reply, and, as briefly as possible, gave an account of what had happened. She could not help smiling at the incredulous amazement in Joan
’
s tone, and, before she rang off, had promised to go round to the house as soon as she had dressed and breakfasted.
Mary hummed softly as she bathed and dressed. How different were her sensations from what she had expected they would be that morning! She had not anticipated being happy and relieved. Now, she had nothing to do but pack her small case and get along to Joan
’
s as quickly as possible. She looked round the room upon finishing the packing and inspected the half of the wardrobe which she bad used. No, nothing had been forgotten, but, in the curious state of mind she was in, it would not have been surprising if she had been forgetful. The tip for the maid ... she would leave that on the dressing-table. She picked up her bag, and was just about to open the door when she burst into half hysterical laughter. Only one bed had been slept in! That would never do! How could she have been such a fool as to forget that? Still, she hadn
’
t had any experience of this sort of affair, and perhaps she might be excused for forgetting. Hurriedly she replaced her bag on the floor and proceeded to rumple the bedclothes of what should have been her
“
husband
’
s
”
bed. She crumpled up the pillow and loose
n
ed the sheet and blankets from one side, but, in spite of all her efforts, the bed retained a curiously unslept-in aspect. What on earth should she do
?
How could one make a bed look as though it had been genuinely-occupied? With a fast frenzied effort, she made the covers appear as disarranged as possible. Perhaps it was only her guilty conscience which had made the bed appear to her as so untouched. Anyhow, she had done her best and, without a further glance, hastened from the room.
A feeling of joyous exultation surged through her as the taxi bore her towards St. John
’
s Wood
...
She was free, really free. No longer was she pledged to marry Guy, and yet Veronica, too, would eventually gain her liberty, and Richard
...
how strange to be able to think of Richard apart from Veronica! For so long now their names had been linked inextricably in her thoughts
...
But Richard was now free, presumably heart-whole ... he might even return her love. Mary pulled herself up with a jerk. What would that serve her now? Hadn
’
t she by her action of the previous night, innocent though it had been, condemned herself in any man
’
s eyes? No, it was silly to delude herself
...
Even with Veronica out of the picture, she was no nearer the attainment of her heart
’
s desire. It was even doubtful whether she would ever see Richard again, and, in that moment, Mary realized how much more it would mean to her now if Lady Alymer decided to dispense with her services. Still, she decided, it was no use crying about that. She had taken that chance, and, because circumstances had suddenly become so strangely altered, had no right to regret her sacrifice. The taxi drew up with a jerk. Mary smiled her thanks, over-tipped the driver, and, with head held high, mounted the steps to Joan
’
s front door.
“
Please come in.
”
The maid opened the door.
“
Mrs. Mayton is expecting you. She is not quite ready yet, but will you please wait in the sitting-room.
”
She took Mary
’
s bag from her hand.
“
Madam says.be sure to make yourself at home, and she
’
ll be down in a minute.
”
Closing the sitting-room door, the maid left Mary to he
r
self.
Mary had not long to wait. Scarcely had she loosened her coat and seated herself next to the fire before the door opened again.
“
Joan, darling! I could scarcely wait to see you, and
...”
The words died on her lips, for there, framed in the doorway, stood Richard.
“
So you didn
’
t expect to see me?
”
he queried as he advanced into the room, shutting the door behind him with an air of finality.
“
Of course not! Why should I expect to see you here, and at this time?
”
Mary gasped.
“
Well, if you
’
re annoyed, you must hold Joan guilty. She
’
s responsible for this,
”
he explained.
“
But I don
’
t understand! Why should Joan have brought you here?
”
A smile creased the corners of Richard
’
s eyes, and the whimsical twist that Mary had grown to know so well appeared at the corners of his mouth.
“
You see,
Joan seemed to imagine, rightly o
r
wrongly, that we should have a lot to say to one another, although, at present, we seem to be merely firing futile questions
...
Really, there
’
s only one question that actually matters
...”
Mary glanced up quickly, a light of sheer happiness wreathing her features. Was this to be the realization of her dream? Was this the moment she had been looking for all these past months?
With two strides Richard was by her side, had lifted her almost bodily from the chair and held her in his arms, in a tender, yet fierce, embrace.
“
Mary
...
Mary darling
...
you d
o
love me, don
’
t you? That
’
s the only question that matters,
”
he murmured, leaning his cheek against hers
...
“
To think that we have been at cross purposes! That morning
...
our last talk together ... I tried to tell you then how much I wanted you
...
that, sooner than see you give yourself to Perivale, I had to escape from home.
”
“
I thought you wanted to go ... I imagined you would return as soon as Veronica was free,
”
Mary faltered.
Richard gave a short laugh.
“
I know that now! If only we had been frank with each other then,
”
he murmured fervently as he pressed his lips against her hair,
“
what a lot of heartaches we might have saved ourselves. But what does all that matter now? ... It was just a muddle, a wretched misunderstanding. I only want to be sure of one thing, to hear from your own lips what Joan has already told me
...
that Perivale means nothing to you
...
that your action was only a means to an end
...
that you care only for me.
”
“
Yes, I do care
...
you must know I do
...
but
...”
Mary
’
s words were almost inaudible.
“
But what? Is there anything else you can expect
...
anything more that I can offer you but my heart, and the ful
l
ness of love it contains?
”
“
Richard
...
last night
...”
Mary hesitated miserably.
“
What about last night, angel mine
?
...
Don
’
t you like staying alone in a London hotel?
”
he questioned softly.
THE END