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Updated: May 17, 2025
An hour later Storran came slowly downstairs from the little room where he and Magda had met again for the first time since that moonlight night at Stockleigh met, not as lovers, but as a man and woman who have each sinned and each learned, out of their sinning, how to pardon and forgive. Storran was very quiet and grave when presently he found himself alone with Gillian.
That would have been a needless expense seeing that monsieur would already have had the letter, since all the letters were sent on. All! She, Madame Ribot, could vouch for that. At the end of half an hour Gillian succeeded in extracting Michael's address from amid the plethora of words and, bidding the voluble concierge bon jour, she and Storran beat a masterly retreat.
Davilof had all the charm of his nationality, and June capitulated, retreating to make the necessary arrangements. "I don't fancy Dan Storran will at all approve of the alteration from his usual customs which you've engineered," observed Magda when they were again alone. "Dan Storran?" Davilof's glance flashed over her face, searching, questioning. "The owner of the place.
And she departed to her own room to complete her morning toilette, leaving Gillian wondering rather anxiously what she could have meant. When, half an hour later, the two girls descended for breakfast, Dan Storran was not visible. He had gone off early to work, June explained, and Magda experienced a sensation of distinct relief. She had dreaded meeting Dan this morning.
It seemed as though Dan Storran always contrived to interpose his big person betwixt her and the sharp corners of life, and she began to wonder, with a faint, indefinable dread, what must become of their friendship when Magda returned to Friars' Holm.
Gillian bent over the rail, looking down at the phosphorescent water breaking away from the steamer's bow. Suddenly a big hand covered hers. "I think I'm lonely," said Storran. "Gillian," he went on, his voice deepening. "Gillian . . . dear. We're two rather lonely people. We shall be lonelier still when Michael and Magda are married. Couldn't we be lonely in company?"
And she stole him from her. When I think of it all, of June . . . little June! . . . And Storran gone under! Oh, what's the use of talking?" savagely. "You know and I know that there's nothing left. Nothing!" "If you loved her, Michael " "If I loved her!" he broke out stormily.
That revealing moment by the river's edge with Magda, the swift, unreasoning jealousy of Davilof which had run like fire through his veins jealousy because the other man was so evidently an old acquaintance with prior rights in her which seemed to set him, Dan Storran, quite outside the circle of their intimacy had startled him into recognition of how far he had drifted.
But it was precisely at this particular juncture that it pleased Fate to give a fresh twist to her swiftly turning wheel. Storran did not come in until dinner was half over, and when finally he appeared he was somewhat taciturn and avoided meeting Magda's eyes.
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