CHAPTER IX He said again, roughly, “He shan’t have you. No man shall have you but me.” He caught her to him and kissed her. Anne, tearing herself from Garry’s arms, turned and saw Charles. He was looking past her to Gary. “Will you tell me,’’ he said in an even tone, “why you didi a thing like that?” Garry faced him defiantly, “Be cause she told me things were over between us. But they’re not. She’s mine. I’ll prove it some •day.” “She is not yours. Did you tell him, Anne, that you are to be my wife?” Anne’s world went whirling. The wide sky and the wide ocean seemed to sway and rise as if to engulf her before she found voice to say, “I—I am going to marry him, Garry.” “You mean you—love him?’’ “Yes.” Garry lost control of himself completely. “Well, if you want hinj, you can have him. But I’ll tell you this—I’ve got something to give you that he hasn’t. I’ve go,t a first love and a name that hadn’t been dragged through the courts.” Charles took a step toward him. "In the old) days I would have demanded satisfaction of you for that, or have beefi called a cow ard. But today we are more civilized. We know that the cow ard is one who twists the truth to further his own ends.” “You mean I am lying?” “I mean that I can offer more than you can offer, and you know it.” Garry’s firsts were clenched, but this was not the moment to fight. He said to Anne, “You’ll be sorry. And you won’t be happy.’’ “You can’t know that, Garry.” “I know you better than you know yourself. Patterson has an other wife, and even if the courts have set him free she’ll always be a ghost rising up between you.” Anne said, “Please go, Garry.” He went, driving furiously. When they were alone Charles said, “He told me the truth, Anne. I had no right to come to you.” “You had every .right. Don’t let Garry spoil our day, darling.” His face was lighted. “You can call me that?” “Why not, if Pm going to marry you?” “I had' to say it to stop Garry. But it wasn’t the way I had planned to propose to you.” "How had you planned?” “I was going to wait until everyone was gone and we were alone with the sea and the sky.” "We are alone now. Vicky has gene off with the children—” she caught her breath. “Tell me now. Tell me!” He had her in his arms. “You know it all without my telling.” "But I want to hear you say it.” He said it again and again un til the afternoon waned and the sun went down and the ffeme of the afterglow was gold and red. "Tomorrow’s promise,” Charles -whispered, “for clear skies and quiet seas. Shall we call it an omen, dear heart, for our fu ture?” Tomorrow’s promise ? Clear skies? Or storms? Anne clung to her lover. Whichever came, she was his—forever. Garry, meeting Margot at a dinner party in Washington on her return from London said, "Your ex-husband is to marry Anne Ordway.” “Marry her?” “Yes.” “How do you know?” “I heard it from her own lips, and I saw him with her. He’s quite mad about her?” "And you mean to let him have her?” "I can’t snatch her from the altar, can I? It isn’t done in these days.” Margot laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Let’s dance,” she said. The room in which they danced was panelled with long mirrors, and Margot could see herself in Garry's arms, his dark head only a few inches above her own. Once upon a time Charles’ blond head had towered high above her, and she had gloried Licensed Funeral Directors and Embalmers Reins-Sturdivant Funeral Home Sparta, North Carolina in his strength and good looks. She wondered why she had ever let him go out of her life. No other man could match him. She had found that out in time to | escape Bart. And now he was going to marry Anne Ordway! “When?” was the question she put to Garry. “No one seems to know. Soon, I fancy.” “Where is she now?” “On the Eastern Shore, with Vicky.” When supper was served, Mar got sat at a little table with Garry, thinking. She was going to fight Anne Ordway for the possession of her lover. It wouldi be a fight to the finish and she would win. The next morning she drove her roadster to Annapolis and took the ferry across the bay. It was raining a little as she fol lowed the road to the Hewitt farm, and) the wind blew cool. But Margot cared nothing for wind) and weather. As she went) along she rehearsed what she was to say to Anne. If she lied a little, what harm? She found Anne away. The colored maidi who answered the door said they were expecting her at any moment. She had gone to Baltimore early that morning. The rest of the family was also away. A reunion on somebody’s birthday. Margot was glad that fate was playing into her hands. She would wait for Anne and see her alone. She sat