Picturegoer (Jan-Jun 1938)

PICTUREGOER Weekly January 22, 1938 ANGEL— continued from page 21 brought in with the coffee an announcement of his engagement to a Miss Emma Macgillicuddy. "Begging your pardon, sir," he observed, on being duly congratulated. "It was you, sir, and you, milady, whom I cited as an example of how beautiful marriage can be, who induced Miss Macgillicuddy to believe in the institution." "Did you hear that?" Maria said awed, when Wilton had gone. " Perhaps we should stage a rousing quarrel, so that we shan't feel quite so responsible," Frederick suggested. "A lovely idea." "But what shall we quarrel about ? " " Well, I might say I'm a neglected wife." "No, darling. I'm afraid we couldn't quarrel about that — because I should agree with you." They tried jealousy as a basis for disagreement, but it was obvious that Frederick believed no more in the fictitious "other woman" whom he created for himself than in Maria's declaration that she was already packed to fly to a lover. "We might just as well face it. We're a hopelessly happy married couple," he declared. A sudden, definite wish to conform to this ideal, kept Maria away from the thought of Paris. But when, at a race meeting, at the end of her field glasses, she saw the face of a man in a grey topper, who had once called her "Angel," she went hot and cold. Pleading a headache, she succeeded in getting Frederick to order the chauffeur to drive her home. Considering the threat of her unknown partner of romance, and the fact that he had followed her to England. Maria ought not to have been astonished at hearing of him again. She was dressing for the opera, to which she looked forward with pleasure, but Frederick who had promised to escort her, with loathing, when he came in with apologies on being reminded that he was late. "Sorry dear, but after lunch I ran into an old wartime friend — Pootchie. otherwise Tony Halton. We both knew the same little French dressmaker in Paris — Paulette I'ouchardiere. Quite a fellow this Halton. By the way, did you ever hear of a Grand Duchess Anna Dimitrievna, a Russian emigree, living in Paris?" " I believe so — why ? " ' ' Well . Halton has gone completely mad over a woman that he calls Angel, he met at her house. He's really a very decent fellow — lived four years in India, did fine government work there, has a splendid career ahead of him. I hope he doesn't lose hishead completely. From all I can gather, the type he'd meet at the Grand Duchess' " "Oh ! It's probably only an adventure." Why must her hands touch and retouch the bright, fair hair, already brushed to an artless, gleaming perfection ? Why must she hear the throb of her heart at hearing Frederick say behind her : "Not at all . . . not with him. Why, that man's been looking all over Paris for this woman. No one can talk him out of finding her." On these words, Maria's emotional life was built up until Frederick's announcement that he was bringing Halton in to lunch, drove her down to earth. To ensure there should be no seductiveness about her clothes, she chose a plain dark two-piece, relieved by a white jabot. Nervousness gave her added poise as Wilton ushered her into the drawing-room, where the two men were having cocktails. She wanted to keep the conversation on an impersonal level — this man in a weli-cut suit, with the fair moustache, was beyond doubt her companion of an evening. Frederick, however, declared that he and Mr. Halton had been disagreeing on the subject of love. Maria, afraid to meet the grey eyes, turned upon her gravely, but without a trace of recognition, switched the talk to the future. "You're staying in England for a while, Mr. Halton? " "No — he's going back to Paris," Frederick supplied. "Well, Lady Barker, I may have to change my plans." " That's interesting, old man. How did it happen ? " "To-day, as a matter of fact. I may have to stay here a little longer." Swiftly she seized on one of Frederick's half-made plans as a straw for the drowning. " How fortunate for you to be here at the best part of the year. There's so much going on," Maria said. "Wimbledon next week. Oh! I'm afraid we shall miss the matches. Frederick has promised to take me for a little trip. Did you make up your mind where you wanted to go, dailing ? " "Well, I've several very interesting ideas." "I'm dying to hear them. Shall we go in to lunch ? " Following coffee, Maria relaxed so far as to play the piano, though she ignored Tony's hint for her to reproduce the love song a composer had rendered for them on the violin at the Caf6 Danube. While she was playing a waltz, she didn't notice that Frederick, having received a telegram, had left the room until Tony said : " Hullo. Angel." " I beg your pardon. What do you mean, Mr. Halton?" " It seems incredible, that 1 should find you here in this house — his wife. It's like a dream." " I still don't understand you, Mr. Halton. Are you confusing me with another woman ? " You're not Angel. You have the same skin, the same eyes, the same lips, hut you don't talk like her." "I'm not. There can't possibly be two of you." "I'm afraid there must be. I haven't been in Paris for the last six months. It must be a terrific coincidence. The lady with whom you had your adventure " "Wasn't it more than that? At least, I thought so." " Perhaps the lady thought so, too. But it's impossible for me to read the mind of a woman I never saw or heard of." " You're not Angel. You have the same skin, the same eyes, the same lips, but you don't talk like her. Forgive me for the error." "Naturally. You know, Mr. Halton, I think this resemblance will always create embarrassment between us. It's unfortunate, but for my own comfort and peace — certainly for yours — don't you think you might find some excuse not to come here any more ? " "You must be very happy, Lady Barker. You have a lovely home. You're the wife of a charming and famous man." "I am very happy." He had gone over to the piano and seemed as if about to break into the love melody, when his eyes met hers and he closed the lid abruptly. " Don't be afraid," he breathed. "I won't play it. I shall never play it. I hope I never hear ;t again." "Thank you. I told you in Paris never to look for me. The whole thing is forgotten." "And I told you I'd never let you go out of my life." "I'll fight with every weapon I have if you try to destroy my home." " Then why did you come to Paris? Why did you leave me for London ? It doesn't make sense." "None; but isn't that the woman's privilege ? " " Have you ever been in love ? " "Not with you. I said you had grey eyes, brown hair, a charming smile and great attraction. You still have. That's why I want you to go. Please go." His eyes were still upon her, his arms ready to enfold her, his lips ready to meet hers. The words "Maria . . . angel . . . angel," broke from them. She rang the bell, told Wilton to find Sir Frederick. "I'm afraid Mr. Halton has to leave," she said when he came. "Must you really go, Halton? \ didn't expect to. be gone so long. How about another drink ? " Frederick pressed successfully. Soon they were on dangerous conversational ground again. Maria, intoxicated in spite of herself at Tony's attitude of no refusal, paid him back for staying, by referring to the Paris episode, and even inquiring for a description of Angel's appearance. Deliberately looking away from her as they sat at different ends of the sofa, Tony rose to the occasion by painting Angel's hair as dark and her eyes brown. Taking advantage of Sir Frederick's being called to the telephone, he blew into the air the card-house of a polite readiness to leave by saying, solto voce: "I'm going to Paris. I'll be in Paris by next Wednesday." "It'll be useless." " If there's a chance, one chance in a million, I'll be waiting for you at the Grand Duchess'." "You'll only be torturing yourself." "I'll be there at five; no — hours before." At the moment of Tony's departure, no one could have been more certain than Maria, of failure to keep the rendezvous. Yet within half an hour she was scheming to achieve it. Instead of the trip they had planned, to the idea of which Maria had clung desperately, Frederick decided it was imperative for him to go to Geneva. Robbed of her only chance of keeping afloat, Maria let herself sink. Why shouldn't Frederick take her in the specially chartered 'plane to Paris, and pick her up on his return ? He agreed. At 5.30 on the following Wednesday, Maria arrived at the Grand Duchess'. She was shown by a butler into a reception room. A man was waiting on the far side of the table. Instantly she saw that it was Frederick. Hullo, Maria. Strange place meet you, isn't it?" " Rather strange. May I ask what you are doing here ? " "Curiosity. You see the lady known as Angel caught my imagina tion. I wanted to see her." " You mean you actually missed conference in Geneva ! " "Merely to find out if Angel is brunette, or a blonde." "As a matter of fact, she is blonde. Mr. Halton's descriptic varies. Once he told me she had fa hair and blue eyes and a slight foreign accent. ' "Sounds like a description of you. "Doesn't it? It disturbed my vanity to think there should be another woman so like me, so I came to find out." "Maria, I know from the airport bookings, that you came to Paris by 'plane last Wednesday. How many times have you been here before: What kind of life are you leading: To think that my wife, whom I trusted, whom I was proud of, could come to a place like this." " Frederick, you re getting nervous — you're jealous. Do I really interest you as much as Jugoslavia?" The obvious fact that she did gave her more joy than she could possibly have imagined it would, an hour ago. "You are Angel," he challenged. "Why should I be. Haven't I a lovely home, everything I want ? " Her wits worked fast. In the next room, Tony might conceivably be waiting. Towards the next room, Frederick was moving, declaring that if she weren't Angel, he must look for her. He left in spite of her entreaties. Within a moment the door again opened, and revealed Tony. "I understand Frederick's here," he said. "He's in the other room; maybe gone. I don't know. Anyway it's all over. Silly, how upsetting a little thing like saying ' Good-bye ' to one's husband can be, isn't it ? " She knew that he read the truth through the tears in her eyes, as he picked up her fallen fur and held it out for her. She was drawing it round her neck when Frederick was back again. "Hullo, Tony," he said naturally. "You know the story you told me about Angel interested me so much that I couldn't resist coming here. Now I've met her; and you see, Maria, in the last few minutes I've thought about our marriage more than in all the years we've been together. All I know is, the train leaves for Vienna at 10.30 if you decide to meet me at the station." Vienna — not Geneva Aware of no more completely satisfying homage than that expressed by the substitution of one town for another, Maria gratefully took her husband's hand and walked with him down the long corridor into the street.