LOVE'S DARK JOURNEY

Waikato Times, Volume 126, Issue 21040, 16 February 1940, Page 3

LOVE'S DARK JOURNEY

MARGARET COOKE

CHAPTER XXII Continued It was in his mind to see whether he could find a nurse from whom to make inquiries, when the door opened and a nurse ushered another visitor in. Jim Martin stood up quickly, his face set. Yet his heart was thudding fast. For the other caller was Rene Willett. She had not returned with the Renways, and for a while she had been talking with the matron of the hospital. Now she could only wait here for the final verdict after the operation. She recognised James Martin in a flash, and for a moment she stood still, regarding him with a strange little smile on the corners of her lips. She was still a little dishevelled, although most of the damage that had been caused to her clothes and her skin had been repaired. Nonetheless her astonishing beauty was not so obvious now, although she was still lovely, and she stood there superbly, a regal figure.

James Martin had to admit that. He had conceived no dislike for Rene Willett. He believed hers was a hard beauty, and that her head and not her heart dictated her actions. But now he felt terribly sorry for her, although he knew that this next hour or two was going to be extremely difficult. Mark Renway’s fiancee the woman who had, in effect, left Judy free for him, would be waiting with him, and both desperately anxious tor news of the injured man.

It was perhaps more ironical than anything that had gone before, and as Jim waited for the woman to speak, he wondered what was passing through her mind. CHAPTER 23. Rene Willett had had time to think since the shock of the accident. It had been a terrible shock, but she had stood it well. She realised that she was tremendously fortunate to have escaped with such little injury, and in a way that fact conquered the worst of her anxiety for Mark and her mother. She was safe— Yes, James Martin was right. The woman was hard and thoughtless of everything and everyone but herself, when trouble came. To the best of her ability she loved Mark Renway, but it was a love that could die quickly, easily. Even now the stern, lean figure of the man in front of her was intriguing. So this was Judy Frensham’s second capture. The country wench must have some fascination for men. But she controlled her thoughts quickly. “Mr Martin—” “We’ve met before,” said James Martin quickly. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am about this, Miss Willett.” “It was—dreadful,” she said slowly. “Worse than dreadful. And—congratulations on your escape.” She shrugged her slim shoulders. “It was just luck—sheer luck. And now I hardly know whether to wish I was in Mark’s position, or—” He was by no means sure whether to believe her or not. Somehow, he did not think that she was so deeply affected as Sir John had been. Was it possible that the woman could be thinking, even now, of other things than her love for Mark Renway?

“I think you should glad you will be able to help him, later on,” he said a little stiffly. “If —if he recovers.” “Do you think there is any real fear of his death?” “How can I tell?” she asked, and again he told himself that she was taking the whole affair too calmly, and that she was as cold inwardly as she appeared on the surface. To her Mark Renway was a prospective husband and a wealthy one—that was all. He judged her very shrewdly, and yet she did not dream for a moment of what he was thinking. “We can only wait, of course.” He offered her cigarettes, and she took one idly. Her face was very close to his as she leaned forward to accept a light. “And your mother?” “Oh, she will be better within a week or two,” said Rene Willett. “Tell me, are you waiting for news of Mark?” “I came to make inquiries, and promised to stay so that Sir John and Lady Renway could return,” he explained. As he spoke he was wishing that they were not in the room together. He told himself now that he hated this woman—yes, hated her. It was strange that he felt like that, and the atmosphere of the waiting-room seemed to grow tense. But there was nothing he could do, although he lapsed into a silence that he did not want to break. Rene Willett was sitting in an easy chair, smoke streaming from her lips, her eyes closed as if with weariness but actually in thought. Supposing Mark died? Her immediate thought was the j possibility that all her plans would be broken. She would find it necessary to fight again for the saving of \ her home, and her mother’s. The j struggle would start afresh, and the I creditors who had been quietened by the news of the impending wedding would be hounding her at the St. John’s Wood house again. She could have laughed bitterly with the irony of it. Only a few hours before complete victory had seemed within her grasp. Now this had happened. She needed no telling that it would be months before Mark was fit again, even if he did recover, and for all she knew he would be badly disfigured, perhaps maimed for life. Why had fate ordained it so? She told herself that for a while at least she must keep cool, she must hide her real feelings. Until the news came through of the result of ! the operation at least. After that— j Jim Martin glanced up from the j magazine he was reading. Rene was I leaning back in her chair, her legs | crossed, her coat thrown open. It I was a gesture of almost feline grace, ! and her loveliness was there now for him to see and understand. How easy it must have been for her to captivate Mark Renway! Small wonder Judy had stood no chance ; in the battle for his affections. Yet i how could a man prefer this ! woman— There was cruelty in the twist of j her lips now. He told himself that j she was reckoning the effect of the ' accident to her materially, that she was not thinking of Mark for his own sake. He laughed inwardly. : bitterly. j (To be continued)