MAN MADEMTOWN
TENTH INSTALMENT
And then, as there was no an
swering smile on his face, she sighed
and went on.
"I wish I understood about my
self. Sometime! I think that you
understand, that you know all about
me, only you won't explain to me
"Why won't you?"
"Perhaps because I'm not clever
enough. Perhaps because I know I
should only hart you."
Diana was looking down at the
little three-cornered scar on her
slender arm.
"Well, I've got this to remember
you by, anyway," she said ruefully.
He made a swift movement, as if
of protest, then stood still again.
"Nothing more than that?" he
•eked.
She raised her eyes.
"Yes, much more," she said. I
shall always remember you as the
dearest, best "
"Don't make me conceited."
She, sat down in the chair in which
he had sat to dress her arm, leaning
her chin on its high back and look
ing up at him.
"Well, that's that," she said in a
puzzled sort of way. "When do
you want me to go?"
He smiled at the question.
"Well, not to-day or to-morrow,"
he said whimsically. "I only
thought that before Mrs. Gladwyn
comes back . . . ?"
"Supposing she never comes
back?"
"We won't suppose anything so
unlikely, and besides, I must see
that left arm a great , deal better
before I let you out of my sight."
"Then I hope it never gets bet
ter," Diana said.
Dennis had come down for one
last visit before Diana returned to
London.
He was full of plans for their
future but Diana found herself cold
to all of them. His caresses failed
to thrill her as they had before her
Illness.
Finally Dennis had flung away
from her and had gone back to
London. His angry departure had
failed to stir her, although it left
her with the feeling her world was
falling away from her.
She wondered if her love for him
had died. And the thought, strange
ly, carried with it no regret.
And then suddenly came the rev
elation that it was Donald she loved,
maddening, distractingly. She knew
then she could never be happy with
any other man.
"Tomorrow," Diana said to her
self, "tomorrow I am going to Lon
don."
She was glad because it was
Rathbone whom she loved; a jnan
surely worthy of the best life could
give him, and in some strange -way
that gladness overweighed the
knowledge that, even supposing
he cared for her in return, he would
never tell her so. But she could not
believe that he cared—why should
he? There were so many women in
the world more deserving of happi
ness than she—noble, unselfish wo
men—not just selfish, spoilt—use
less. Then she was conscious of a
great fear; fear because all her life
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she would have t 0 do without him;
that would be hardest of all to bear.
When morning came she found
that out of the mass of confused
thought only one fact had strug
gled; she must keep her pride what
ever happened. Nobody must ever
know, nobody must ever dream that
she had loved him and her love had
not been returned.
"I may as well go away with
Dennis, or anybody else who wants
me," she told herself recklessly, as
she watched the creeping daylight.
"I can't ever have the man I want,
s 0 nothing matters."
CHAPTER XV
Diana made a quick trip up to
London to do some shopping. She
had lunch with Dennis, who told
her Linda was going to Paris and
begged her to run away with him.
She kept putting him off with
indecisive replies to his urgent beg
ging and he finally drove back to
the country. She promised him, as
she was kissing him good-bye, that
she would give him an answer in a
few days.
Miss Starling told her, when
Dennis had left:
"Dr. Rathbone came just after
lunch."
"Oh," Diana's voice was studi
ously indifferent.,
"He left a message fo r you."
"Oh." Diana said again. "What
was it?" she asked as Miss Starling
kept silence.
"He asked me to tell you that he
did not consider there was any real
need for him to call any more —
that he had arranged with Dr. Fin
lay to look after you regularly, and
that he hoped you would approve.
He asked me to say that, of course,
if you wished to see him again par
ticularly, he would be pleased to
arrange to call or for you to go to
his consulting room in London."
The Creature was knitting so rapid
ly now that the needles flashed daz
zlingly In the afternoon sunlight.
Diana closed her eyes.
"Thank you. That will do nicely,"
she said, uncertainly.
When a little later, Miss Star
ling had gone for her usual consti
tutional, Diana sent a telegram.
It was addressed to Dennis Wat
erman at some West End Club, and
consisted of only tw 0 words:
"Yes, Diana."
Diana left the cottage very quiet
ly on the Friday afternoon. She
told the Creature she was going t't
dinner and a theatre with Dennis
Waterman and would not be home
until late.
Diana drove straight to Mrs.
Gladwyn's house when she got to
London. She was not expected, and
the maids seemed rather flustered
by her sudden arrival.
She intended to pack a small
suitcase for which Dennis would
presently send his chauffeur, and af
ter that —well, after that her mind
was a blank—after that nothing
would matter very much. Nothing
mattered very much now, if it came
to that. Diana was amazed because
she felt so cold and unconcerned.
Even the thought of Rathbone
hardly distressed her. That epi
|)de, precious as it had been, was
definitely ended.
She did not know what plans
Dennis had made, and she hardly
cared. Since the afternoon she sent
that wire she had often wondered
why she had done it. It was not
because she had wanted to go with
Dennis except that deep down in her
heart was a foolish, feverish hope
that perhaps he could help her to
forget—could drug her senses and
take away the endless pain of lone
liness and longing.
Dennis was the one creature in
the world of whose love she was
confident, and so she had turned to
him as a half-frozen outcast would
turn to the first fire that gleams
through the night.
She had no regrets—nothing mat
tered.
At seven o'clock she sent the
maid for a taxi and put on her
cloak. She would be a little early
for Dennis, perhaps, but the silence
and memories of this room worried
her—lt would be better to get out
and mingle with the noise and bus
tle again.
She went down to the waiting
taxi, leaving orders about the suit
case. She did not care if her aunt's
maids suspected anything; she knew
it would be the first time she had
set them all talking. It was only
really genuine people like Miss
Starlihg and Jonas who made one
feel ashamed.
The cah stopped, and a commis
sionaire hurried to open the door.
Dennis had chosen to meet her at
this small, rather unpretentious
restaurant because he Baid they
would be unlikely to meet anyone
they knew, and It was Diana her
self who had suggested the theatre.
"Ifs so long since I saw a play,"
was the excuse she made, but that
was not the real reason. It was be
THE ELKTN TRIBUNE. ELKIN. NORTH CAROLINA
cause she felt the desperate need of
excitement to help her-of stimulant
to give her courage; if Dennis of
fered her champagne tonight she
would certainly not refuse. She
walked into the little lounge and
sat down by the fire. It was very
quiet— JUßt the kind of place runa
way people would choose, Diana
thought cynically.
The swing door moved noiseless
ly, and Diana turned. If it was Den
nis—Diana stared blankly for a mo
ment at the woman who came in—
stared, and thought herself mad or
dreaming, for the woman was Linda
Waterman.
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She was alone, and their recogni
tion was mutual before Linda came
across the Lounge with easy confi
dence, beautifully gowned and look
ing young arid untroubled.
"How strange—that you should
be here," she said. "Dennis tells me
you have been very ill. I hope you
are better."
"Yes —yes, thauk you."
Lindu held her hands to the
warmth. There was a large dia
mond on one finger that caught the
light and sparkled into cold white
flashes of fire.
Diana was very pale, and the
vivid blue of her gown Intensified
her pallor. She was wonrtering
vaguely what would happen when
Dennis arrived. Something seemed
to tell her that of them all he would
be the only one seriously distrubed.
With an effort she forced herself to
speak.
"Did you have a good holiday in
America?"
"It was hardly a holiday. I had
so much business to attend to.
Dennis hated it —he was longing to
get back all the time."
Her eyes dwelt on Diana's face
with half-amused interest.
"Are you waiting for him now?"
she asked abruptly.
Diana's lips . moved, and she
flushed crimson, but no words
would come, and Linda said with an
unconcerned laugh:
"You need not miad telling me if
you are—it's just bad luck that we
should both have chosen the same
rendezvous. I am waiting for a
friend myself."
Diana rose to tier feet.
"I thought you were in Paris,"
she stammered, and then wondered
why, of all the things she might
have said, she should have chosen
words that were surely an admis
sion.
Linda shrugged her shoulders.
"I suppose Dennis told you so?
Well, I wanted him to believe I was
going to Paris," she said quietly.
"It suited me for him to think so."
She laughed again. "It's very odd,
but it never seems to occur to my
noble husband that perhaps I too
have my secret orchard."
She held out the hand that wore
the big and stared at it
meditatively.
"I'm rather glad you and I have
Thursday, May 19, 1932
met again," she said. "I Intended
to write to you soon, anyway."
"To write to me?"
The burning colour rose again to
Diana's face—she felt utterly at a
disadvantage. Linda was so as
sured, so cool —she was sure at last
that Linda no longer cared for Den
nis.
"You need not look so angry,"
Dennis's wife said calmly. "I know
you hate me, but you need not. I
quite like you, Diana; if it were not
for Dennis, I believe we coulti be
good •friends."
She moved 'suddenly, coming a
little closer to the girl.
"I suppose Dennis never told you
that I offered to divorce him, did
he?" she asked interestedly. "I as
sure you I did—before we went to
America, the night you dined at the
flat."
CONTINUED NEXT WEEK
j C. G. ARMFIELD
Notary Public
W. M. ALLEN
LAW BUILDING