HONEYMOON HATE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXX, Issue 21503, 29 May 1933, Page 17

HONEYMOON HATE

By MRS. C. N. WILLIAMSON

SYNOPSIS: Tho story opens with tho arrival at Venice of Gail Grant, a beautiful but spoilt and ill-mannered American heiress, who calls at Cavaroni's Tourist Agency to demand a guide with very special qualifications. The agent rather sarcastically intimates that the perfect professional guide required is not to bo found, but that he mipht bo able to enlist tho help of Princo Dantarini—at a price! The bargain is made, subject to tho Prince's consent, and Gail goes of! in a gondola, pausing at an antique shop to inquiro the prico of some brocado. She is surprised to find the shop-keeper a very handsaino and courteous gentleman, who speaks English with an Oxford accent. CHAPTER 11— (Continued) Miss Grant stared at the shopkeeper. Ho stared back at her, hut not rudely, as she stared. His stare was veiled by a cool politeness. " How much is that big piece of rose-and-gold brocade in your window —tho right-hand window?" she enquired. " Twenty thousand lire," he promptly answered. " Oh, nonsenso! That's far too much," Miss Grant snapped, living up to the precept that you must beat these Italians down or they won't respect you. " I'll give yqu ten thousand." " I am sorry, Madam," replied tho man, in his beautiful, cold voice, " but I have only one price for my things." (How she did hate these people all calling her " Madam " ! It mado her feel as old as Mole.) " Is this your own shop?" Gail flung back; " or aro you a clerk?" "It is my own shop,'' came the answer. " Well, I think you're silly to dream of getting all that money for a piece of old brocade that's probably ready to fall to pieces if you cut it up." " It is twice as strong as anything of the sort made nowadays," tho man defended his ware. " And it is not for cutting up." " I should cut it up if I bought it," said Gail. " The only thing I'd want it for would be to make a cloak." ' The shopkeeper smiled, but with not at "all a.nice smile. " You say the price I ask is ' silly,' " ho quoted her words of a minute ago. "But to cut that brocado would be worse than silly. It would be criminal. A pieco of fifteenth century work, worthy of a museum! ■"My gracious!" exploded Miss Grant. '' I must say you _ have a pleasant, popular way of selling your goods! Telling customers what they re to do and what not to do." " I should not need to tell a connoisseur what to do with that brocade, returned the brutally tactless man. It isn't your fault, of course, madam, that you're not a connoisseur, but I'm_afraid I prefer to lose you as a customer and wait for another who knows more about beauty and the value of antiquity. " Well, now, I'll test your fine principles, just for fun," cried Gail, becoming shrill and laughing nervously, tor* she was angry, yet she wanted tho bi°cade, wanted it more and more.- Besides, the man excited her curiosity. " I said at first that twenty thousand lire was a silly price, and so it is. But I don't much mind what 1 pay when I feel like having a thing. N>o here, I offer you twenty-five thousand lire for your brocade, to cut it up for a cloak." * " I will not sell it to be cut up, the man answered. " I bet you will for thirty thousand. " Not for a hundred thousand, nor for any price at all." "Well, for crying out loud! exclaimed Miss Grant. " Suppose I told vou now that I'd buy the brocado for your first price, twenty thousand lire, and would not cut it up, would jou sell the thing to me? " " I would sell it to you," he said, and added, after 1 a slight pause, but smilelessly, " with pleasure." "You would?" Gail echoed. She, too, paused, and then asked, with a certain childishness. " How would you know that I'd keep my word? " He looked at her critically. You are too —abrupt. I think, to be a liar. Gail was oddly pleased. Well, lm not a liar," she announced. " It's understood that you've given me your word not to mutilate the brocade in any way whatsoever? " " Ye-cs," she returned, baffled by her own sensations as by his strangeness. ".I do givo you my word. 1 hough "what I want tho stuff, for if X can t cut it up I really don't know " " Don't buy it if you don't want it. Another will, sooner or later." She laughed. " Well, I don't wish another person to have it, somehow. She stopped laughing and. thought for a few seconds. " I meant to take the brocade back with me in tho gondola. I didn't suppose it would cost more than ten thousand lire, and I've got that much Italian money on me, but I haven't much over. What I'll do is to give you nay cheque and you can send the brocado to Miss Gail Grant, at tho Hotel Danieli, when you've been to Cavaroni's and they've cashed it—or convinced you that I'm all right." " I shall be glad to have you take it home, with or without your cheque," said the shopkeeper. "I am convinced without consulting Cavaroni that — financially—-you aro all right." " What —you know my name? " she inquired. And it seemed quite natural to her that ho should know it, whether Venetians were guin-chewers or not. " I know your name now that you have told it 'to me," he said. " I have not, to my knowledge, had the pleasure of hearing it before." Queer how the shopkeeper could flatten her out! She might be Mole. Both ladies stepped into the waiting gondola. Tho girl turned as she stood and put out her hands to receive tho largo parcel which tho shopkeeper had intended giving to one of the gondoliers. Tho gondola lurched slightly owing, no doubt, to some unbalancing movement of Gail's. Tho girl, standing with arms outstretched for tho parcel of brocade, pitched forward and in saving herself the gold mesh handbag hanging by its chain from her right wrist slipped off and went splash into the canal. Gail was safe. She was standing firmly again, but that beautiful baglost forever! Molo heard herself moaning the words aloud. " Oh, no/' said the shopkeeper coolly. "It is not lost forever. The canal isn't so very deep now the tide is beginning to go out. Miss Grant shall have her bag again, I hopo and believe, in a.few minutes." v Before they could have believed it possible for the shopkeeper to return, there he was, and Mole was quite ashamed of herself for her immodest admiration. One glance she darted at Gail, and tho girl was staring straight at the apparition, not lowering her lashes or even blushing at the sight of a nearly naked male not on a bathing beach as young maidens had done in Mole's early dayf.. Ho wasn't as white as marble and ho wasn't as brown as bronze, but there was a golden and glorious quality in his strong, yet slender limbs where muscles rippled as he moved. His hair was auburn in the glare of the sun. . ~ ~ , " Tho sort of one-picco suit that some beaches in America forbid; but Latins don't care!' Mole had had thno to reflect; a black suit, what there was of it, and then he was gone, down under the water-* beautiful divo he made!

(COPTRIGBT)

Author of "Scarlet Runner," "Frozen Slippers," eftd. A GRIPPING STORY OF LOVE AND ADVENTURE

He came up once, dripping, a trail of green waterweed wrapped round his throat. " Haven't got the bag yet," ho said, " hut I know where it must ba now," -and was down again, out of sight before Gail had time to speak if sho would have spoken. Mole counted: "One, two, three," telling off seconds and wishing she could remember if she'd ever heard how long humans can stay under water. " I do pray he's all right," she whispered, and her prayer was answered for ho was all right. He reappeared and the gold bag was in his hand. ' " Rather wet," he said, treading water as ho dropped the bit of glittering mesh on to the gondola's black sheepskin rug. " I put it there, or it would ruin your white dress. Hope there's nothing spoiled inside." " Thank you," pronounced Gail shortly, vet somehow not ungrudgingly. For her that wasn't so bad, if the man only knew it. But the man was as laconic as Miss Grant. " Not at all," he answered. It was my fault that you lost your bag; I had"'to get it back for you. Goodday." Ho was standing on his own marblo steps now, the submerged lower' stops where the canal swirled round his shoulders. Then ho was up and out, and had vanished into the palace, water streaming from him as ho ran. Ho didn't look back and wave his hand as some men would have done. Perhaps ho was offended at Miss Grant's lack of enthusiasm. Anyhow, ho was gone and there was nothing more to do except to row home. " Hotel Danieli," Miss Molesay directed the gondoliers. CHAPTER 111 The shopkeeper lost no time in drying and 'dressing himself. As soon as ho had resumed his conventional appearance (except for his hair, which was still wet and taking on extra crinkles) bo walked quietly into the room behind the " shop." There an elderly but lovely lady sat enthroned in ono of the velvet cushioned, gilded and crested chairs. Talking to her, with the air of ono who could not sit in the presence, was a man. " That girl does not deserve such a service, Principessa," the man was protesting in English —because one did speak English with the Princess Dantarini if one could. She still loved the language, for she had been born a daughter of Ireland. Princo Dantarini sauntered in. " You found the bag, Colonello mio?" enquired Bueno. "Why ask him?" the lady smded. "Do you imagine he would be hore, so soon, if ho had not found it? If you do, that must be, I think, becauso you don't know him as well as I do. Ho does not give up very easily, this son of mine!" " You are right, Principessa," apologised the ex-soldier to the mother of the colonel. " I need not have asked. But I grudged his running the risk for so poor an object." _ , "No risk," returned Dantarini. " Though I must say the canal water has a taste which is rather special. If for no other reason, I owed it to the lady to get back her bauble, as she has bought the rose and gold brocade, which was in the window, for 20,000 lire. Sho will send her cheque; and, by the way, she . referred me to Cavaroni, Bueno." "T hope to heaven she didn't catch sight of me before you shut this door, and went to meet her, my colonel," said Bueno. "T hardly think sho had time for it," Dantarini replied. " But why should you care?" " I forgot, my colonel, that you didn't know!" said"Bueno. "We were interruped by her coming, before 3 had got so far as telling you the name and pedigree of the young woman who needs princely qualifications in her guide, and will pay two thousand lire a day for them. I had time to recognise her, so I thought possibly she might have caught sight of me. I have been speaking of the sceno she made us in the office, to the Principessa. But if sho did not mention me to you, and say: ' There is that horrible person from Cavaroni's desecrating your room with his disgusting presence,' I am safe. Sh6 didn't see me. Sho has such renin rkablo frankness of speech she would not have suppressed ,the recognition I am sure, had it taken place." " Do you mean," asked Dantarini, " that the eccentric young lady you came here to talk about, and tho buyer of my brocade are one and the same? This one's name is Grant; she and a meek little duenna, whom she didn't introduce, are staying at tho Danieli." " They aro the same," said Bueno. " Now that you have had an exhibition of the Jady's manners, I'm afraid there is less chance than before of your accepting her offer. I know you were already inclined to turn it down, before she and her companion came into the shop. So now —"

"The question," cut in Dantarini, " is whether she'll consider me princely enough for the price when she learns that your paragon (I'm suro you made me out a paragon, Bueno!) is the same fellow who keeps an antique shop, and has wrangled with her over a piece of brocade." " She ought to thank heaven on her knees if she can secure you," exclaimed the Princess. " Of course, the money would fie useful —two thousand lire a day for several weeks. But luckily you have sold tlip brocade —and sold it well, Why should you sacrifice yourself?" " That was the reason I hesitated even to come and put the proposition before you," said Bueno. " But you have honoured me by your confidence, my colonel; you have told mo of youi' schemes, and that the more money you can save toward carrying them out the better. So when this crude young female, reeking of dollars —" " I understand, and I thank you, Bueno," Dantarini broke in once more. " Instead of being offended, I'm grateful. I shall certainly take the job on, if she'll have me, knowing as she does row, how my poor princchood is handicapped." " Well, for the sake of the agency, whoso client she is, I am pleased, my Prince," said Bueno. " But if this affair arranges itself as I begin to seo that it probably will, I'll have many a black moment, thinking of your sufferings for which I shall bo indirectly responsible." " You needn't dnturb yourself for me, my dear fellow," said Dantarini. "I shall weather through, and perhaps now and then treat myself to the pleasure of giving Miss Grant as good as she sends.' She can't bo as bad in a few weeks as the whole war." " You can tell Miss Grant when you phono, Bueno, that I will call at threo o'clock." The importance of what was to happen at threo was somewhat dimmed for Miss Grant by memories of the scene at the antique shop. She couldn't put out of her mind the picture of that man diving in the canal to retrieve her gold-mesh bag. She kept seeing him as he stood on the marble step, halfsubmerged, the sun gilding his firm, tanned body, striking lights from his grey eyes, and setting fire to the crinkles of his wet hair. She wasn't at all suro that she had como out well in the sceno over the brocade. He hadn't admired her. Yet he, a shopkeeper, had done for her something almost like the deeds of knights for their ladies in ancient days of chivalry. (To be continued daily)