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Authors: Jane Arbor

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As they reached the other car she stumbled out of the near door, panting and half-sobbin
g
. She seemed bewildered, and at sight of Joanna she stared unbelievingly.

Then she looked at
René
. With a gesture that was as simple and as unaffected as that of a father
welcoming a tired child home he opened his arms to her.

She ran to him and he held her close, cradling her head upon his shoulder. And Joanna had scar
c
ely time to wonder or to question the utter naturalness of it all before she heard Shuan murmuring brokenly: “
René
—I’m so terribly, terribly sorry! How did you know?
How did you know
?”

“Later,
ché
r
ie
—later!” he whispered. “First, we must take you home!”

But by now Justin McKiley had alighted and was leaning against the hood of the Lincoln with an unpleasant smile upon his face.

He bowed elaborately in Ren
é
’s direction. “An extremely touching piece of knight-errantry!” he sneered. “Though believe it or not, you are very welcome to my late victim. I was just on the point of throwing her out
—”

Shuan’s head came up sharply as she twisted about in
René
’s hold.

“That’s a lie!” she declared. “I made you stop the car. I—I threatened to jump if you didn’t!”

Justin shrugged his shoulders insolently. “A quibble, I think! Shall we agree that we are each glad to be free of the other’s company? You’ll excuse me, perhaps?”

This time his bow was for Joanna. But it was
René
who sprang forward to take him roughly by the shoulder.


Cochon
!”
he said. “I have waited for this!” His right fist came up in a blow directed at the other man’s jaw, but he twisted adroitly at the right moment and stepped backward.

“You will not fight?” demanded
René
incredulously.

“I don’t fight—schoolboys!”

“Ah-h!”
René
’s furious lunge promised to be dangerous. But Shuan ran forward to catch him by the arm. “
René—
don’t! It was as much my fault as his. Let him go. I’ll explain everything!”

The interruption was all that Justin needed in order to extricate himself from the situation. He turned towards his car, but as he made to get into it Joanna
took an impulsive step forward. “Don’t go on

!”
she said urgently.

He was seated now, one hand upon the wheel, the other upon the switch.

“Don’t go on—where?” he asked.

“To—to Musveen—or wherever you were going!”

He raised his eyebrows. “So you knew that? But, of course, you had to, or you would not have organized the rescue-party! And you could have known it from only one source. Well, well, I must say that my sweet Magda throws a pretty revenge

!”

“She has done more than that
—listen

!”

But the urgency in Joanna’s voice was drowned beneath the throbbing hum of the Lincoln’s engine as Justin switched on. She was forced to step aside quickly as the car rocked across the reedy stubble, accelerated amazingly, and was gone.

She turned back to the others, making a gesture that was eloquent of helplessness as she did so.

“We should have made him listen!” she declared.

But
René
said: “Let him go. It is a reward that he has asked for. There is nothing we can do.”

Joanna doubted that, but it was after all, Shuan, not Justin, whom they had come all this way to protect; Shuan for whom lay in front the inevitability of questions, the ordeal of judgment
...

René
was holding her by both hands now. Their eyes were looking deeply into each other’s.
René
asked softly: “It was good then that I came?”

And Shuan replied: “
René
—I wanted you so much!”

They moved over towards the car, holding hands childishly. Joanna’s heart ached for
René
, who, she believed, could be reaping only Shuan’s incidental gratitude. In just such a rapture, Joanna felt, the girl would have welcomed any friendly face, any uncritical gesture. She was glad when they got into the back of the car together. She did not want to talk to Shuan just now.

Soberly the car took the road along which they had come. Michael was driving more steadily now. He and Joanna made a few perfunctory remarks to each other, but it seemed that all were occupied with their own thoughts. Until suddenly Shuan said urgently: “I—I don’t want to go home yet—until I’ve explained. Can’t we stop somewhere? I

want to talk!”

It was with a sort of innate delicacy that Michael took the hint that she meant she wanted to talk to
René
and Joanna alone. He growled: “I have an uncle lives two or three miles ahead. Maybe I could be let t’ go t’ see me uncle, the way ye’d be givin’ Miss Shuan a drop t’ warm her at the hotel?”

The “hotel” in question proved to be the general shop-cum-public-house-cum-post office which covers under one roof all the legitimate needs of many a small Irish village.

In a bar-parlor that was chilly with leatherette and oilcloth, Joanna, Shuan, and
René
faced each other across the gentle slope of the round table which had for decoration a celery glass full of plaited reeds tortured into fantastic shapes.

Joanna was glad to accept a cigarette from
René
, but Shuan put both hands round her glass and stared ahead of her as she talked.

She said: “I see now that it was beastly of me. But when it began I was sort of fascinated with the idea. And when I did begin to find something out about Justin I made up my mind I
must
go on, because that would help Roger as well as—being a kind of revenge for his selling Deirdre. I
hated
him for that
—”

“You could have appealed to Mr. Carnehill over Deirdre,” Joanna pointed out.

“But I told you—I wouldn’t have done that for
anything
.”

“All right. Go on
—”

“Well—it seemed easy, because Justin never bothered to make much secret of the fact that he was doing better out of something than he did out of his salary as agent for Roger, and that he could afford to pay Magda well to. I don’t know why he wasn’t afraid I should tell Roger what he had hinted at. But I didn’t. I thought if I let him go on I should find out enough myself.”

“You could have told me!” put in
René
gently.

Shuan answered, “I didn’t want to bring you into it. I
wanted
to do it all myself. I began to go about with Justin because I hoped he would tell me more, especially when—when he was in one of those beastly boastful moods, when he didn’t care much what he said
—”

Joanna shivered involuntarily. How
could
Shuan have believed she could afford to play with fire to this extent?

The girl went on: “He took me to Dublin with him. That was when I met Magda and the two men we were going to meet at Musveen today. Magda was supposed to go with him, but I think they must have quarrelled or something last night, and Justin said she had refused flatly to go. He asked me instead. And I said I would.”

“But
why,
Shuan? You
must
have known that Justin was far more clever than you, and that he would never have given you enough to prove anything against him. It would always have been your word against his—against his and Magda’s!”

Shuan’s full red mouth set stubbornly. “I hoped all along that he would do or say something which I could take straight to Roger as proof. It—it was only this afternoon that I suddenly saw how beastly
sordid
the whole thing was, and I began to hate myself for getting mixed up in it. We stopped for lunch at Ballyboy, and I was wondering then how I could get away and get back to Carrieghmere. But I hadn’t any money, and I hadn’t decided anything before I found myself getting back into the car again.

“And then I couldn’t bear it any longer”—she put her hands over her face, so that they had difficulty in hearing her—

Justin began to boast again, and to talk as if we were in a sort of
partnership
together—it was horrible. Then I told him I wasn’t going on—to Musveen or anywhere else. And I threat
e
ned that if he didn’t stop the car I would jump. So he stopped it. And—and then you came along!”

Gently
René
drew her hands down and held them closely between his.

“Haven’t you wondered why we came,
chérie
? How we
knew where you had gone? Do you realize that Magda told us? That she told us something else too?”

“Magda told you

?”

“Yes. She had already told the police of the rendezvous at Musveen. They would have been there waiting for you.
That
was why we had to follow you!”

“Oh

!” The girl’s realization of what she had
escaped was poignant to see. She said slowly: “You let Justin go on?”

“I tried to warn him. But he wouldn’t listen,” Joanna told her. “There doesn’t seem to be anything we can do about him until Mr. Carnehill knows all about it.”

Shuan shivered. “Roger! He’ll have to know! How he’ll
despise
me!”

“He can’t despise you. However mistakenly, you did what you did—for him,” said Joanna.

And
René
said: “He can’t despise you. For no one shall dare to despise the woman whom I ask to be my wife!”

There was a moment of charged silence. Joanna’s heart seemed to turn over in pity for
René
, who could court so boldly the reply which Shuan, loving Roger, must give him
...

But Shuan’s eyes were shining. Her hands were still clasped between his, and it was as if her surrender of them were eloquent of all else that she had to give him. For she said: “You—you’re asking me to
marry
you?”

“Yes, Shuan
—”

“Oh, I will. I will!
René
, darling—I
love
you so!”

Joanna stood up, a hand at her throat. She felt that she could almost hate Shuan for what she did

to
René
, who loved her and who did not understand
...

René
stood up too. The smile he gave Joanna came from the depth of his happiness as he said deprecatingly: “It is almost unique—yes?—that a proposal of marriage is made before a third person! But you are so good a friend, Mademoiselle Joanna, that we do not care. That is so, Shuan? We do not care?”

“No
—”

“But
I
care!” Joanna’s voice was taut and throbbing. “Shuan

you can’t

you dare not

marry
René
if it is Roger that you love!”

She knew that
René
’s face had whitened as he looked quickly at Shuan and back at her. But Shuan said wonderingly: “Roger? But I don’t
love
Roger!”

René
’s tension relaxed, but Joanna’s held. As if it were a stranger speaking, she heard herself say: “Once—I asked you. And you said that you cared for Roger—terribly!”

It was Shuan’s voice now which seemed to come from a long way off. Shuan said: “So I do. I suppose I’ve loved Roger for almost as long as I can remember. But not as I love
René
—not
like that
!”

 

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Fo
r
a long
time afterwards, whenever she re-lived that moment, Joanna could recall the whole incongruous scene. The unnatural sheen of the oilcloth upon the sloping table-top, the dusty grey-brown of the dry reed-heads, Shuan staring at her, and
René
muttering something about “going to find Michael”—as if he sensed that there was something here in which he had no part.

Joanna said slowly as if expressing it for herself would help her to believe it: “You mean—you have
never
loved Roger as—as a woman does love a man?”

Shuan blushed a lovely color. “No—never like that. When I told you I cared terribly about him I didn’t know you could possibly think
that
!”

“Are you sure”—it was an unworthy suspicion which spoke—

that you didn’t
want
me to think it?”

But Shuan’s frank stare was utterly disarming. “No. Why should I?”

“I’m sorry, Shuan. Of course there wasn’t any reason. But you were jealous of me, weren’t you? You were jealous of the things I could do for him and you could not. And I thought that perhaps you said what you did in order to—to establish your own rights—the right of your love for him.”

“Well, I was jealous,” admitted Shuan. “You see, up till the time you came I’d been able to—to
—”
She paused, frowning. “I can’t think of the
word which means that you try to do all you can to make up for something you have done earlier—something wicked or horrible, perhaps?”

Joanna was puzzled. “I don’t know. ‘Compensate’? ‘Expiate’?—that would be too stron
g—”

“No it wouldn’t. ‘Expiate’ is what I wanted. I’d been able to expiate the horrible part I had played in his accident by doing absolutely everything I could for him—giving up my own time to him, trying never to grumble when he was beastly and bad-tempered, because all the time I had to be telling myself that it was my fault!”

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