FALSE LOVE AND TRUE
By MARGARET GLENN
SERIAL STORY
A Love Story of Outstanding Charm
CHAPTER X. .continued) She looked at him through veiled eyes, letting the smoke curl up in front of her face. She pouted. “Couldn't we try, Marty—?” His lips curled. He spoke swiftly, i cuttingly, and the passion in his voice, j repressed though it, was it was seemed to take definite shape. “No." he said. "We've tried too often and we've always failed. We won’t start again. I'd rather kill myself." “Oh, Marty—“ Sickly sweet, her voice came, minglii it it seemed with the smoke from her parted lips. But ] j her eyes glittered, with a malevolence that close to hatred. She lifted her half finished drink, and took it down without a pause. 'He eyed her, and he shuddered when he remembered he was married to her. Married — “I'll be better. Marty—" “For heaven's sake, stop." He ground the words out, moving across the room as he did so and opening a window. The room was muggy and thick with smoke. A slight breeze wafted in. sending the hennaed hair about her forehead, buttering the light, flimsy dress. Her eyes were like points of fire, ">o you won’t, eh?" I Wingate looked at her, and the con- j tempt, in his eyes stopped the words j on her lips. "No," he said, with more self-con- | fldcnce than he had evidenced sonce j he had first seen her. "I won't, Clare. | We've finished, once and for all. You get your allowance regularly, but if you follow me I’ll cut it down." She licked her lips. He allowed her five hundred pounds a year. With it. she was able to live on a better scale than ever she had done before her marriage. But it wasn’t enough. She was insatiable. She worried him, continually, asking for more, demand- j mg more. Usually, to get rid of her for a few months, he gave her a cheque. He knew she had come for I extra money, that n ght. I "You wouldn’t darling, not my generous Marty—" "I will,” snapped Wingate. "If you want anything belter, apply to the courts." Her lips tightened and her breath hissed between her lips. There was somethin: different about him now. I Always before he had been easily persuaded. He wouldn't be easy now. She wondered why and it took her very little t'me to guess. Another woman, of course. She licked her lips, like a dog over a bone. If she could only get grounds for a divorce, she could fleece him. ' She knew she could fleece him. But it wasn’t wise to talk about it, then. "You are in a had temper. Marty. Go to bed. and let's talk in the morning." ] , "Talk nothing." said Wingate, grimly. "You're not, staying. Clare, so don't get that idea into your head. I ( And remember you're playing with fire. If I have any more trouble from you I'll stop your allowance. AltoWhen be stopped, there was an 1 utter silence in the room. Her eyes, narrowed and yellowish, glittered with j hatred. Her long. llrn. nicotinestained fingers clutched at her knees. , "You—" she began. And then she flew at him like a panther, her bands clawing at his fare, j her knees driving at his stomach. She lost, all sanity in that outburst 1 of furious anger. He was ready for it. It had hap- i pened so often. Times out of num- ■ ber he had grappled with her. trying
1 to fend her off, trying not to hurt j her, sliding this way and that until i she recovered herself, and stopped crying or screaming and flaying the } air with her arms and legs. She had I been turned into a raging termagent, ; sometimes by drink, sometimes by something inside her, which he had not discovered until after their marriage. His hands sonjht and found her wrists. By sheer force he put her arms to his sides and held them, tight. Inch by inch, he forced her towards a wall, while she kicked and j screamed, bit at his face, butted her head savagely. He forced her against the wall and kept her there, until the fire dropped out of her body. She was white, now. Her eyes were glazed. Suddenly her lips quivered. She began to cry. "Don't." said Wingate. “You've tried it too often." She stopped crying, as quickly as she had started. "Mind you don’t try something—too often." she said, and her lips curled, wickedly. ‘Mister Cleversticks, aren't yer? You wait, my boy." ITe walked away from her. and dug * his hands deep into his pockets. He I was not looking at her, now. His r face was sore, and blood was oozing } from a scratch on his cheek. His I hose felt tender and swollen, where j her head had caught it. | “Get out," he said, and his voice I was like a sigh. She went, without another word. Martin Wingate saw the glitter in her eyes, and he shuddered at what it might mean. * * * * They had been married for ten years. At twenty, he had been experienced in the ways of men, but a child in [ the ways of women. Five years of ! travel over the trackless plains of South America had hardened him against everything but women. He had had a good allowance from his father, whose only concern was that his son didn’t worry him. Wingate didn't. Six months after his return to England, he had met Glare Sanders; a month later they had been married. A few weeks of ecstasy had been broken, abruptly, when she had asked him for more money than he himself had ever spent in a year, and he had hesitated. She had flown at him, just as she had flown that night. He saw the raging fury he had married. And then it had been a long succession of outbursts. She would come home, after a day with "friends," drink-mad. She threatened time after time to return to the singe career she had “sacrificed" to marry him, and he had wished that she would. She was too cunning. He would pay her any amount she demanded, to keep her quiet, to prevent these outbursts. He did. for three years, and then his patience was exhausted. He left her, with the allowance of five hundred pounds a year, and went abroad. For three years lie had kept, away from England, but the lure of the country brought him hark. That year, just before he had carried a pig in his arms and met Rene Malleson. he had seen her in London. It was useless to try and avoid her, there, so he had come to Hampshire, to the little house up in the hills, hut still she had found him.. She had no desire for a settled existence. Money and good time were her gods. And so it had gone on.
He had met Rene, and he loved her He knew, after a week with her, that she meant everything to him. But there was Glare. He was tied So ho had never breathed a word to Rene, and the black moods had overwhelmed him at times, when he had realised he could never tell her. Malcolm Brent knew of his wife; Malcolm had warned him. Now, when It was too late, he was willing to admit Brent had been right. Of course, he had known all along that Brent was right. But the days with Rene had been sweet. He had hated to end them. knowiri? they could newer come again. And now—“lt's too late." he told himself, Itimp and timp again. He was sitting in the chair Glare had taken, and his fare was like a stone. His fingers were clenching and j unclenching. A half filled glass was | at his side, and a dozen cigarettes I strewed the floor. He couldn't think. | He could see red. raging mist, and through it the three words came : “It's too late." Rene knew. The glimpse of her face he had caught that night told him. Glare had called at Oakland?, in mistake for HiUview, and she had said enough for Rene to know. Martin sat there, staring at the red. raging mist, while his palms sweated and his face was set like marble. Edna had been reading to John, whose room was at the front of the house, and she had heard the car approach. and the conversation that had followed. John was dozing. If he heard, he gave no sign. She waited, untill she heard the door close, and heard the car move off. Then, treading softly so as not to disturb John, she went out of the room. Rene was coming up the stairs, her face was as white as a sheet. She saw her mother and tried to smile. Her lips wouldn't move. They were set, stiffly. Her eyes were hopeless. "What was it?" murmured Edna. She put her arms round Rene’s shoulders, and went along the passage to the girl's room. For a moment they sat on the bed. silently. Rene stirred. "I—l don't know." she said, and Edna felt her shivering from head to foot. I don’t know —but I’m afraid —” "Tell me," said Edna, softly. Her hands stroked Rene's hair, backwards from the forehead, but Rene hardly realised it. “A—a woman came," she said, in a voice so low that Edna could hardly hear. “Asking for—Martin. I'm afraid—” Edna’s hand moved, slowly, softly. They sat in absolute silence, for a space when time stood still. The mask of despair left Rene's eyes. She shook herself, suddenly, and turned her face towards her mother. A smile trembled on her lips, wan but courageous. “I’m a goose,” she said, shaking her head and pushing her hands through her hair, pulling it t ightly back from her forehead. "But I just felt—dead.” Edna said nothing, but the pressure ! of her hand on Rene’s was all they needed. She left Rene alone; it was safe now. It had not been safe, when she had first seen her with those eyes like death. Rene looked out of the window, into the storm-swept sky. The last gleam of day was lost. She opened the window, and leaned out, trying to get the coolness of the night air, feeling uncertainty and doubt of dread, but feeling, too. capable to withstanding it. Edna was talking with Janey when she went downstairs. A kettle was singing, and Janey jumped from a rocking-chair—it had been sent for her from Greylands—and made tea. Rene hadn't realised it, but she had been waiting for the stimulant. It brought colour to her cheeks. “Spiling ye, that's what I’m doin’,** said Janey, getting a dish of patties from the larder. The knock on the door came suddenly and unexpectedly.' it startled them. Janey was the first to mo\f, easing her angular body between Rene and the table, and striding to the door with a swishing of black skirts. A deep sonorous voice came clearly into the kitchen. “Is Mr Wingate here, Mrs Curtis? I want a word with him, urgently.” Mason! Edna recognised Martin’s servant's voice, and stood up quickly. Fear clutched, unreasoningly, at Rene's heart. “I haven't seen him,” said Janey. “Mason!" Edna called out, quietly, laying a hand on Rene's trembling shoulder. “Gome in-, please.” Mason came in, pale-faced, large and dark-clad, as ever. “Tell me about it,” Edna said. Her voice was level and unexcited, although she could feel Rene's anxiety, and judged the concern on Mason's face. She felt very cool. Mason rubbed his chin nervously. “I —I don't think he was quite himself, Ma'am, and he went out of the house in a hurry, and —” Rene went deathly white. Edna looked quickly towards Janey, who moved across the room with remarkable agility. A door banged as she hurried into the dining-room, poured a tot of brandy into a glass and hurried back. Rene shook her head. Edna said: “You'll need it, dear,” and called Mason on one side. “You've nothing to go on, but that?” she said. "That's everything, Ma’m, but there are reasons—” "I know there's something to worry about,” said Edna, “or you wouldn't be worried. Did he say anything?” "Not a word, Ma’m. He just went out of the house, walking blindly, no hat, no coat, and he was looking like death itself. I ran after him but lost him, and I thought he came this way. Walking blindly! All of them I thought, immediately, of the steep ! slope, a quarter of a mile from Oaklands. It dropped almost sheer from the edge of the lane. Rene remembered the day when the manufacturer had been carried towards it. by Prince, .and Martin had cut across and saved him. Martin —
'To be continued)
“Success consists not so much in sitting up at night as in being awake in the day time." Luckiest footballers of the season are the brothers Chollis. of Ipswich, England. Cecil, aged 13. and Leslie, aged 10, were having a grand game or football with an anti-aircraft shell containing enough explosive to blow the farm to bits untill their elder brother took away their “ball." Astronomers state that inhabitants of our earth would have a 40-year notice if we were to be struck by a star. The warning would be given by a change in Hie orbits of our outermost planets, Pluto and Neptune.
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Bibliographic details
Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20785, 21 April 1939, Page 5
Word Count
2,247FALSE LOVE AND TRUE Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20785, 21 April 1939, Page 5
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