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Updated: May 28, 2025
Every one turned to look at her, every one was watching when she stopped for a moment before Drexley's table, but every one did not see the flash in her eyes and the sudden tightening of her lips as she recognised the little party. Yet she was graciousness itself to them, and Douglas was the only one who noticed that first impulse of displeasure.
Yet Drexley's black look puzzled him. The carriage pulled up before one of the handsomest houses in London. Douglas, brought back suddenly to the present, realised that this wonderful afternoon was at an end. The stopping of the carriage seemed to him, in a sense, symbolical. The interlude was over. He must go back to his brooding land of negatives.
He forced himself after a while to share in their conversation, he joined in their laughter and listened to Drexley's stories, but all the time with a sense of inward excitement which he found it hard to conceal. Coffee and cigarettes were served at Drexley's suggestion out in the palm court attached to the restaurant.
She thrust her arm through his and led him gently to the sofa. "Douglas, won't you trust me? I want to keep my secret for a little while. Listen. It shall not keep us apart, but I cannot be your wife yet, dearly though I would love to be." The old mistrust blazed up in the man. Drexley's cynicism, Strong's ravings came back to him. He, too, was to be fooled. Her love was a pretence.
Drexley's face was black with passion, but Douglas would not have him speak. "Wait," he said. "Hear my story first. I left you that night abruptly as you know. I went to her. I put aside all false modesty. I forgot that I was only a journalist with a possible future and no past and that she was an aristocrat my passion carried me away. I knew only that I was a man and she was the woman I loved.
There was never a shadow of envy in his heart as he watched Drexley's happiness. Joan and he saw them off at Charing Cross for the Continent, and they walked back to her rooms together. "So you are really going home to Feldwick, Joan?" he asked. She nodded. "Yes. Since I left it I have done nothing but make mistakes. I think that the old life is best for me."
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