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Updated: June 20, 2025
But she was gradually becoming apprehensive that disturbing consequences might accrue from Magda's stay at Stockleigh Farm. A woman of her elusive charm, equipped with all the subtle lore that her environment had taught her, must almost inevitably hold for a man of Storran's primitive way of life the fascination of something new and rather wonderful.
Even though she knew now that at least June Storran's death need no longer be added to her account, she still adhered to her decision. As she had told Dan with a weary simplicity: "I'm glad. But it won't make any difference to Michael and me. Too much water has run under the bridge. Love that is dead doesn't come to life again."
"It's rather the same kind of feeling that has driven Magda into a sisterhood, I think the desire to do something definite, something tangible, as a sort of reparation. And a woman is much more limited that way than a man." Storran's mouth hardened.
Or, as yesterday: "There's a pony fair to be held to-morrow at Pennaway Bridge. Would you care to drive in it?" And to each and all of Storran's suggestions Magda had yielded a ready assent. So this morning had seen the two of them setting out for Pennaway in Dan's high dog-cart, while Gillian and June stood together in the rose-covered porch and watched them depart.
Her face clouded as she reflected on the tragic happenings with which the news had been accompanied. At this moment a waitress paused at Storran's side and he gave his order. Then, looking curiously at Gillian, he said: "What did you hear? Just that she died when our child was born, I suppose?"
And she carelessly accepted the fact, without a thought that in playing with Dan Storran's emotions she was dealing with a man who knew none of the moves of the game, to whom the art of love-making as a pastime was an unknown quantity, and whose fierce, elemental passions, once aroused, might prove difficult to curb.
An unhappy woman is very often a bitter one. And Magda had been slowly learning the meaning of unhappiness for the first time in her life a life that had been hitherto roses and laurel all the way. The devils that lie in wait for our weak moments prompted her then. The bitterness faded from her lips and they curved in a smile that subtly challenged the stern decision in Dan Storran's face.
"I'm so glad Michael is going back to Magda without knowing about June," said Gillian, coming to a standstill beside the deck-rail. "Going back just because his love is too big for anything else to matter now." "Haven't you told him?" Storran's voice held surprise. "No. I decided not to. I should like Magda to tell him that herself." They were both silent for a little while.
"Is it Miss Vallincourt?" Magda nodded and proceeded to introduce Gillian. But Storran's glance only rested cursorily on Gillian's soft, pretty face, returning at once to Magda's as though drawn thither by a magnet. "I'm sorry I couldn't meet your train myself to-day," he said, a note of eager apology in his voice. Magda smiled at him. "So am I," she answered.
For a moment the suddenness of her release left Magda swaying dizzily on her feet. Then her brain clearing, she looked across to where Dan Storran's big figure faced her. The nonchalance with which she usually met life, and with which a few moments earlier she had been prepared to face inevitable death, stood by her now. A faint, quizzical smile tilted her mouth.
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