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“Yes, quite clear,” Rosamund said with a little shiver. “Father, is it true, do you think? Will people do anything for money?”

“A great many will, no doubt. But certainly not everybody.
You
know that because you’re one of those who won’t.”

“Sometimes I’ve wondered if that’s true,” she told him despondently. “Perhaps I’ve got my breaking point like other people—” She looked at her watch and gave a little exclamation. “As late as that! I’ll have to go now if I’m to be back in time for dinner.”

“Stay and have it with me,” Dr. Rob suggested, but Rosamund shook her head.

“I’d like to, but I think it would be better if I go back at the time I said I would—in time for dinner. You see, I said I was coming to Town on business, but if I’m late, it would look as if it was something more than that, and I just don’t feel I can stand any more complications,” she finished wearily.

Dr. Rob didn’t argue.

“Right, my dear, if that’s how you feel,” he said, standing up. “There’s just one other thing, though.”

He went over to a small bureau, unlocked a drawer and took out a key which he handed to Rosamund.

“The key of this flat,” he explained. “I want you to feel absolutely free to use it if ever and whenever you wish— and whether I’m here or not. Promise?”

Rosamund gave her promise and took the key. A few minutes later, she and Dr. Rob took a taxi to the station and he saw her off.

She reached Lindacres to find, to her relief, that nothing untoward had happened in her absence. Indeed, there was good news. Dr. Milward had phoned through to say that Miss Fletcher had stood the operation very well and that so far everything was going satisfactorily.

From John there was no message at all.

 

Just as Dr. Rob had predicted, on the next morning but one, a letter came from Ruth Hastings, even more malicious and to the point than the first one had been.


You little fool, do you think I don’t mean what I say, or that I'd blackmail you—oh yes, I know what it is!—if I hadn’t got very good cause to know in just how strong a position I am to make you do what I want?

“Why? I’ll tell you, my dear!


I
gather you’ve always assumed that your surname is the same as your mother’s maiden name because you are illegitimate. Well, that’s not so. Your parents were married, but I let you be known as Hastings simply because it suited me. But legally it isn’t your name and never was.


Consequently, when you got married, you made a false declaration and as a result, your marriage was not a legal one
.
A pity, isn’t it, after all the trouble you took to hook a wealthy man!

“Well, you know best, no doubt, whether or not he’d like to be free of you—my own belief is that he would
.
You see, I happened to see him dining at a London restaurant a few evenings ago, and believe me, the way he looked, it was very easy to see that your dear John is far from being a happy bridegroom
.
What
have
you done to disillusion him so soon, I wonder?

“Still, disillusioned or not, it’s up to you to get the money out of him. Do that and I’ll hold my tongue. Refuse—and I will most certainly let your dear husband know that he’s nothing of the sort
!
And then where will you be? Out in the cold, my dear, with all your efforts wasted!

“Wouldn’t that be a pity?

Ruth Hastings.”

Rosamund let the letter fall on to the desk and sat staring blindly at it.

So this was what her aunt was so sure gave her the whip hand! Well, since she measured everyone by her own standards, that was no doubt natural enough. It would simply never occur to her that, in fact, by her own action she had destroyed any possible chance she might have had of obtaining the help she wanted.

For, shorn of its malice and cynicism, which was really of no importance, one fact stood out. Here, beyond all argument, was the way of escape from an intolerable state of affairs. She and John were not legally married. That lovely-service—all the vows they had taken—meant nothing at all. They never had. How very fitting that seemed, Rosamund thought bitterly, in view of all that had happened since.

But it was pointless to dwell on that. Married or not, John’s future and, hers lay apart. They both knew it. All that had changed was that now, presumably, it wouldn’t take so long to make the break. Indeed, she must take the first steps in making it at once.

She pushed her hair back from her face, unconscious of the nervous tenseness which prompted the action for it seemed to her that she was entirely cool and collected.

First of all, she must ring through to her father.

Dr. Rob himself answered her so promptly as to suggest that he had been waiting for her call.

“I’ve had another letter—” she began, and came to a full stop. Her mouth felt constricted and dry. Somehow it seemed impossible to put it into words—

“Yes, my dear?” Dr. Rob encouraged.

Rosamund swallowed convulsively.

“She says—that John and I aren’t really married,” she said baldly.

“Not married! But, Rosamund, surely—” Clearly Dr. Rob was taken aback.

Rosamund laughed mirthlessly.

“Oh yes, we thought we were! But, you see, apparently, if you get married in a name that isn’t your own, it isn’t legal. And of course, that’s what I did.”

“But without realising—”

“I don’t suppose that makes any difference.”

“Perhaps not. All the same, I’m not too sure—look, Rosamund, this will have to be gone into properly. We can’t just take Ruth’s word for it, you know! ”

Rosamund’s heart gave a convulsive leap. Everything had seemed so settled—so simple. Now it seemed that there might be a doubt—

“But so long as we don’t know for sure, you can’t stay on at Lindacres, Rosamund,” Dr. Rob went on firmly. “You appreciate that?”

“Yes,” she agreed faintly. Odd that she had been so determined to leave Lindacres, and yet now that there was no alternative, she should feel almost reluctant—

“Of course, you’ll have to let John know at once,” Dr. Rob continued. “By letter I think would be best.”

“Very well,” Rosamund promised. “But I shall have to leave it here for him. I—I don’t know where he’s staying in town.”

“No?” Dr. Rob spoke calmly as if there was nothing unusual in a husband leaving his wife in ignorance of his whereabouts in this way. “Well, the delay can’t be helped, in that case. But make very sure, Rosamund, that he will have it as soon as he returns. And also, it’s essential that you should tell him where you are.”

“Is it?” Rosamund said doubtfully. “Very well, if you say so. But there’s one thing you must know before I come to you, Father—”

“Yes, my dear?”

“If it’s true—if we’re not married—then nothing will persuade me to get married to him. And if we
are
married, then there will have to be a divorce.”

“My dear, it’s early days to talk of divorce,” Dr. Rob said gently. “You’ve hardly given yourselves time to get to know one another—”

“I know it must seem like that to you,” Rosamund admitted wearily. “But really, the trouble is that we didn’t give ourselves time
before
we were married. Afterwards, it was too late.”

“Well, we’ll have to find out the truth about the legality of your marriage before we think of the next step,” Dr. Rob pointed out. “Now, when can I expect you? Today?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” Rosamund said eagerly. The last thing she wanted was to meet John face to face. “Some time this afternoon?”

“Excellent! Oh, bring both of your aunt’s letters, will you? I shall go and see her this evening and with those for evidence, she can hardly deny what she’s been up to! That reminds me, did she tell you your real name?”

“No—she just said it wasn’t Hastings.”

“Just like her,” Dr. Rob commented. “Still holding on to what she thinks is a trump, even if a small one! Well, never mind, she’ll soon know now how little value it is to her. I must go now, my dear, I’ve a patient due in a few minutes. I’ll see you this afternoon, then. Good-bye, Rosamund.”

“Good-bye,” Rosamund repeated mechanically, and rang off.

She sat very still for several minutes. Now she had the most difficult task of all to do—write her letter to John. She made several false starts before, at last, she scribbled away desperately and put the letter into an envelope without reading it through. It would have to do because, after all, what was there to do but simply make a bald statement of the facts?

 

It was late when Dr. Rob returned to the flat. He looked tired and troubled as if he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. Rosamund jumped to the obvious conclusion. “She wouldn’t—?”

Dr. Rob sat down wearily in an armchair and leaned his head on one hand.

“Oh, she admitted everything—in writing,” he said heavily.

“Then—?” Rosamund asked uncertainly.

Dr. Rob didn’t answer immediately. Then he said slowly:

“I never thought I’d say this, Rosamund, but I’ve come away with a feeling of admiration for Ruth! Oh, not for what she’s done—she’s knowingly and without mercy sacrificed us all—first Celia and myself and then you and John—simply to suit herself. That is unforgivable. But none the less, she has very real courage which I, as a doctor, could not fail to recognise—and admire.”

He paused and Rosamund waited in silence, puzzled at the turn events had taken.

“She has a very serious heart condition,” he went on gravely. “So serious that the end may come at any time—”

“Oh no!” Rosamund exclaimed compassionately.

Dr. Rob looked at her curiously.

“So you can find it in your heart to pity her,” he said gently. “I’m glad of that, Rosamund. Even though I know it makes you desperately vulnerable, I wouldn’t have you hard-hearted!”

Rosamund shook her head. She hardly knew just what she did feel towards the woman who had contributed in such a large degree to the wrecking of her happiness, but she could at least recognise Ruth for what she was—a woman who, nearing the end of her life, stood utterly alone because she had never been able to command affection.

“Does she know?” she asked.

“Oh yes, she knows—she also knows that with care and rest she could hope to prolong her life for some time-— though no one could say for how long. But she laughed— with quite genuine amusement—when I suggested that it would be wiser for her to retire. No, she intends to go out fighting and, for the life of me, Rosamund, I can’t help but admire her courage ! ”

“Yes, I think I feel the same,” Rosamund confessed thoughtfully. “All the same, it doesn’t surprise me. When you come to think of it, she’s never been afraid to take risks all her life!”

“True enough,” Dr. Rob agreed. “Well, there it is. It’s no excuse for her having tried to blackmail you, but if one
can
look at it through her eyes, she is genuinely desperate for money. She’s in very low water—there’s no doubt about that. She showed me her accountant’s statement. There’s also no doubt about it that, given a little time and sufficient money to tide her over, she’ll get the Salon on its feet again. She convinced me of that—and I wasn’t in a mood to be convinced, I need hardly say! She believes she can do it in a year and she intends to defy all the probabilities in an effort to do just that! Personally, I wouldn’t say but what she may pull it off—from the point of view of her health, I mean,” he added reflectively. “I’ve seen far too many people die when logically they should have survived and many, too, who have pulled through when there appeared to be no hope for them. It’s a question of having guts—and something to live for. She has. It may not seem a very worth-while something to us, but to her that salon means everything.”

“Yes, it does,” Rosamund agreed. “Really, I suppose, that explains everything—” She pondered for a moment. “You know, Father, I feel I ought to offer to go back to her—” '

“She wouldn’t have you,” Dr. Rob said bluntly. He had been afraid of a reaction of this sort from Rosamund and he was thankful that he could truthfully go on: “She made that quite clear. In fact, she sent you a message to the effect that she wanted neither help nor pity from you or anybody else. She said that she had always stood on her own feet and she preferred to do so now! No, my dear, there’s nothing to be done beyond—” he stopped short.

“Beyond what you’ve already done,” Rosamund said softly. “Because you’ve given her the money she wants, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have,” Dr. Rob admitted. “Although, to my own surprise, I regard it less as being in payment for
this
—” he took several folded sheets of paper from his pocket, “than in the hope that she will live long enough to achieve her ambition. Strange, isn’t it?”

“Not very. You say you’re glad I’m not hardhearted, Father. Well, if I’m not, I think I owe that to something you’ve passed on to me!”

“Do you?” Dr. Rob looked at her, smiling rather wryly. “I don’t know, my dear. Nor do I know, if it’s true, whether or not you should thank me for it. As I said, it makes one extremely vulnerable.”

Rosamund didn’t reply and after a moment Dr. Rob stood up and handed the folded sheets to her.

“It doesn’t make very pleasant reading, but none the less, I think you should read it. It may well prove helpful to you in sorting out your own problems. Then tomorrow I’ll let my solicitor have it to deal with.” He hesitated momentarily. “As a matter of fact, Rosamund, I have already had a word with him on the telephone, and he told me that since you were married in the name by which you had been known all these years he is of the firm opinion that your marriage is legal.”

“I—see,” Rosamund said dully.

“Well—” Dr. Rob, understanding her need to be alone to face her problem, yawned and stretched his arms, “I think I’ll turn in now. This has been quite a day, and I’ve got a busy one tomorrow. Everything satisfactory in your room?”

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