"Her Hidden Husband,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 20 October 1930, Page 7

"Her Hidden Husband,”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

(Copyright).

CHAPTER XI. King took Vera’s hand and held it tightly in his. Here was the opportunity to tell her that he loved someone else —if only he could tell her the whole truth it would make things easier for both of them, and she would at least understand. But he hesitated for he was sure by the tone of her voice, by the way she looked at him, by her quick response that she still cared and wanted his love. She had waited for him all these years! He tried to speak but words refused to come, and then the taxi stopped outside the restaurant.

‘ ‘ Darling, I’m so happy!” she whispered. A commissionaire opened the taxi door and they got out. King paid the driver and followed her into the restaurant. She 'had misinterpreted him; believed that when he had taken her hand and held it tightly that he answered her question in the affirmative; that he still loved and wanted to marry her . Q . He was caught in a trap set by fate.

They sat at a table in a quiet corner of the room; the lights were shaded, the surroundings almost romantic —just the sort of place he would have chosen to bring Pete. He ordered dinner with the help of the maitre d’hotel for the long menu was like reading Greek to him. “I feel an awful barbarian, but it won’t take me long to get civilised,” he said apologetically. “I suppose I shall have to get this beard shaved off and go to a fashionable tailor-or people will be wondering where you have picked me up. ” Though she shook her head she looked at him across the table as if she were puzzled. “I think I like you best as you are. I wouldn’t have you different. All the tailor-made, effeminate men one meets nowadays bore me. . . . But tell mo about your life in Borneo —you found what you wanted —adventure?”

He nodded: “Yes, I suppose I got that all light,” and smiled grimly. He was finding it now, but in a way he didn’t want. “As I told you adventure didn’t briqg me much money. I’m a comjiaratively poor man. I shall have to try my luck over this -side.” “That doesn’t sound like you, Jimwanting money. If it’s for my sake, don’t worry. I’m getting thirty pounds a week salary now, and my next engagement I expect will be more. Why, we could both live on that if we wanted to, eouldnß we?”

“Yes,” he said in a strange voice, “yes, we could both live on that.” The position was intolerable. Vera was providing that her love for him was .sincere and unselfish. He wondered what would happen if he told her that he loved someone else. Would it break her heart? He knew so little about women. He cared nothing for conventions or the opinion of the world, but there was something he treasured even more than love and that was honour. He had given this woman his word; ho knew without a shadow of doubt that they 'had promised to wait for one another. Remembering his will it seemed to him that they were as good as married already. But his word meant more to him than any legal ceremony. His word was a bond . . . Out of the dim mists of the past he seemed to remember that his dead friend Markham had trusted him; it was just a word that had made them partners, a promise to share good and I evil together. j He felt the toe of Vera Carvielc’s 1 shoo touch Iris foot under the table. He 'gave her a quick glance, and lie saw she was laughing at him, yet her eyes looked at him questioningly as if she was trying to read the secrets in his heart.

“Where had you gone?” she whispered. “You’ve been miles away, somewhere in the past. I wanted to think and talk about the future now.” She raised her glass: “Let’s drink to it —our future!”

As lie put the glass to his lips he jerked his head rouud suddenly and the wine spilt. Crossing the restaurant he saw Denny and Pete. She was wearing a very short dancing frock of black georgette with a flame coloured tulle flower on her shoulder. People turned to stare at her. She looked different somehow; utterly feminine and very desirable. 'Her beauty and the lovely outline of her body shook him. “Rather nice, isn’t she?” Vera said, following his gaze. Pete had just seated herself at a table facing them, and as Vera spoke she saw Jim and smiled. Denny threw him a careless nod and waved his hand to Vera.

* ‘ They came on the ship with me from Singapore,” Jim explained. “You know Denny?” She nodded. “Yes, rather a nice boy. Looks as if he’d fallen in love, doesn’t it? I don’t blame him; wonder you didn’t fall for her, Jim.” He turned the conversation abruptly. Pete had told him she was going out with Denrfy, but now he saw them together he grew hot with jealousy. He tried not to look in her direction; told himself he had no right to feel anything now, but continually his eyes moved to her table. He saw her narrow black satin shoes and silk-stock-inged legs beneath the white cloth . . . He talked incoherently; he described his life out East wondering how much was imagination and how much might be true. He didn’t care—nothing seemed to matter —nothing, but the ghastly knowledge from which ho was trying in vain to escape, that he was going to lose the only thing which

BY ARTHUR APPLIN. (Author of “The Dangerous Game,” “The Greater Claim,” V “The Woman Who Doubted,” etc).

“Small world, isn’t it,” lie said,

made life bearable or worth living . . Alone in all the world only Pete real ly knew and understood him.

He heard Vera ask for a cigarette, saying she would have to return to the theatre in ten minutes. He gave her a light, ordered coffee and asked her to excuse him a moment'while he spoke to Miss Marehmont.

“It was she I was really going to meet to-night.” Vera blew a cloud of smoke between her red lips. “You put her off for me? Sweet of you, Jim. Do go and explain. ’ ’ He nodded as he irose; he knew the explanation Vera expected him to give —-that ho had put her off in order to dine with his future wife. That was just what he would have to say how easy it sounded but it -would be like cutting Ms own throat.

Denny shook hands with him, made a few trite remarks and then at a signal from Vera joined her. Jim took his place. “I have to come over to explain.”

“There’s no need to,” she interrupted. “I’m so glad you have found an old friend. Mr Denny’s been telling me about her —quite famous. She looks a dear!” She drew closer to him. “Tell me about it, Jim. Did you remember her at once? |Was it quite easy?” He shook his head; he wanted to laugh. He knew he had often laughed when Markham and he had found themselves in tight corners in the jungle facing failure and perhaps death. He was facing something much worse now and he couldn’t laugh. “Can’t talk here,” he said abruptly, “but what I warned you might happen has happened.” He saw her small brown hand seeking for his beneath the table and he kept his o,wn tightly together. “Tell me, Jim.” Curiously at that moment a verso of poetry he must have read years ago flitted through his brain “The coward docs it with a word; the brave man with a sword.” . . . “The girl I’m dining with is my future wife,” he said. CHAPTER XH. Robert Denny's connection with the stage had been a literary one; he wrote plays which so far had failed to find a producer and he had met Vera when he was writing dramatic criticisms. Now that Vera was a star he had hopes of one day writing a play for her. She greeted him with the cheery familiarity common to her profession; he congratulated her on her latest success; told her about a book he was writing about the East. Then he realised she wasn’t paying much attention to what he said, for her eyes continually wandered in the direction of King and Pete Marehmont.

She nodded vaguely: “It has suddenly become big for me, though. I’m not used to success yet —hope I never shall be ... . Eunny, your coming over on the Malaya with Jim 'King! How did you get on with him; interesting man, isn’t he?” Denny shrugged his shoulders: “Rather queer! Didn’t see much of him — nobody did —he was too interested in the girl I’m dining -with to bother about any of the other passengers.” Vera raised her eyebrows: “Was he? Well, that’s not surprising. She looks interesting and beautiful enough to attract any man. You’ve lost your heart to her, haven’t you, Bob?” “I might have,” he replied evasively, flicking the ash off his cigarette, “but King didn't give me a chance. Before he had even recovered from that awful accident which killed liis friend, Markham, lie romped right in. Took her by storm. She told me just now they were engaged to be married. ’ ’ He was looking at Pete as he spoke or he would have seen Vera’s face change colour and grow white beneath the powder and rouge.

“Funny the men women fall for, isn’t it?” he continued. “Don’t be-, lieve he’s got money; no one seems to know anything about him. ... I don’t believe he knows much about himself. A queer fish. Sorry!” he added quickly, turning towards Vera, “I forgot lie is a friend of yours.” “Oh, I met him long ago—” “You must have; he’s been buried in Borneo for years. Tell me about him. ” She was a good actress and she rvas grateful for her art now, for she could use it in self-defence. She had to draw on her imagination, for she didn’t want Denny to learn her secret —yet. . . . “When he walked into my dressing room an hour or two ago I hardly recognised him. As you said—he is a little queer, Bob. I put it down to the life he has led out east—or perhaps the accident?” Denny drew his chair closer to the table: “You have noticed, it then. 'Look here —you won’t think it’s jealousy or anything of that sort, will you —but I was suspicious of him from the first, because just after the accident happened I went to '•the stateroom he shared with Markham to inquire for them, but I heard a voice, so I didn’t go in.—l swear it was his voice.” (To be Continued).