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"No, no--I've never been allowed to."
Muriel grinned at him. "You're really something,
Rupert. You have guts. I feel as if I'd like to park and neck with you. The peasant streak turning
up at last, I suppose."
The Prince let go of the wheel with one hand. He took off her hat and thrust his fingers in
her hair. For an instant they remained there, disheveling her coiffure.
"That do?"
"Thanks," she said.
They drove for five miles without speaking. "I suppose the Averys will want to get it into
the papers right away. That's the procedure, isn't it?"
"I don't know."
"It'll be tough on you," she said.
"Don't make a martyr of me. As far as I'm concerned-"
"A nice piece of irony, what?" She laughed. "You try to marry a girl for her money.
Through the goodness of God you and she get 'that way' about each other. And lo! the applecart
is upset by the hand of fate. Wonderful. Magnificent. When you marry some other rich girl,
Rupert, can I be your mistress? "
Rupert looked back. "I nearly hit that Elk or Mason or whatever he was."
"It's things like that that make girls like me go feminine and weep real tears," she said.
"Sorry. I'll hit the next one."
"Ten miles." Abruptly he stopped the car and kissed her. "Want to get married in the next
town?"
"You'd do it, wouldn't you?"
"Certainly."
"No, then. Let's go back."
It was just noon. Muriel opened the front door and saw Chloe sitting in the living room.
Whatever was in Chloe's mind had been of such weight as to hold her there, as if a stone she
could not move had been put in her lap. Muriel went into the room. She was somewhat more pale
than usual.
"Hello, Chloe," she said softly.
Her aunt looked up.
"May I sit down?"
"I have no objection."
Muriel crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. "Rupert," she began casually, "just told me I
was of pure French descent." Chloe translated the remark into its meaning. "Rupert! He knows?"
"Valak told him."
Veins swelled on the face of the older woman. "The fool! " Muriel shrugged. "If that
makes him a fool--just what do you think it makes you, Chloe?"
"How do you dare make such--"
"Don't be cross. You're innocent. You did the right thing. The fact that you stole Miss
Jamison's life and gave it to me and that I'm going to lose mine now is a minor consideration."
Even Chloe could catch the sharp scream of sarcasm; it was like the sound of a sword swiftly
whipped through the air.
"You ruined the first part of her life and the rest of mine. But you kept your proud name
safe for twenty years. Except for you, dear auntie, I would probably be walking the streets of
Paris. I just thought I would come in and thank you."
"You've been drinking! "
"I haven't. But it's a good idea."
Chloe looked at her. "Is that all you have to say?"
"No. One other thing. When the papers gently lay the unmoving and pure white body of
Muriel Leigh on the garbage pile, I am going to see to it that little Muriel is accompanied to the
incinerator by the putrid carcass of Chloe Laforge-Leigh." She stood. Her eyes crackled. "Damn
you." Her voice became bantering again. "See you in hell, dear auntie." She left.
Afternoon. Barney rang the door-bell.
"Miss Jamison is in the music room."
"Roses," Barney said.
Janet opened the box. "They're gorgeous. I always liked the yellow ones best. I'll put
them in my room--it's yellow, too."
"I'm glad you called me," he said.
"I was lonesome. I always am when you're not with me. And Miss Laforge-Leigh asked
me to stay till tomorrow, she promised to fix everything then."
"What have you been doing?"
"Nothing." She told him about Valak's card and her intrusion. "Do you think it's all right
to stay here?"
"I guess so. This man--Valak-wanted to know all about you?"
"He was a little bit curious. I think he knew something about me before he met me. I
know he did. The card shows that, doesn't it? You know, I have a feeling that you knew
something about me, too. That's why you came to Mayville, isn't it?"
The dread of the construction she would put on his trip to Mayville burned in him.
"Perhaps."
"But you won't tell. Nobody will tell. I had a feeling last night before I went to sleep that
if I really had brains--what do the detective stories call it?--the power of inductive reasoning--I
could figure everything out for myself. I felt it even more this morning. You won't help me. Miss
Laforge-Leigh won't. And even this Mr. Valak didn't. Who is he, anyway?"
"He's more or less in charge of Rupert. He's not Mr., he's Duke."
"Rupert? Is that the Prince who is engaged to Miss Leigh?"
"Yes."
"I met her last night. She's fascinating-looking."
Barney nodded. "You won't worry about things, will you?"
"Not if you say I shouldn't."
"And you'll keep on loving me?"
"Always."
He glanced restively toward the hall. "Who's at home?"
"Miss Laforge-Leigh. She's in her rooms. She sat all morning in the living room. Just sat.
I haven't seen Miss Leigh."
"Oh."
"I wish you weren't so darn melancholy. You weren't like that in Mayville."
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