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Page 104

Stewart drew his chair nearer to her and sat forward, his face
set and dogged.

"Have you any idea how you were hurt? Or why?"

"No. There's a certain proportion of accidents that occur at all
these places, isn't there?"

"This was not an accident."

"No?"

"The branch of a tree was thrown out in front of the sled to send
us over the bank. It was murder, if intention is crime."

After a brief silence--

"Somebody who wished to kill you, or me?"

"Both of us, I believe. It was done by a woman--a girl, Anita. A
girl I had been living with."

A brutal way to tell her, no doubt, but admirably courageous. For
he was quivering with dread when he said it--the courage of the
man who faces a cannon. And here, where a less-poised woman would
have broken into speech, Anita took the refuge of her kind and
was silent. Stewart watched her as best he could in the darkness,
trying to gather further courage to go on. He could not see her
face, but her fingers, touching the edge of the chair, quivered.

"May I tell you the rest?"

"I don't think I want to hear it."

"Are you going to condemn me unheard?"

"There isn't anything you can say against the fact?"

But there was much to say, and sitting there in the darkness he
made his plea. He made no attempt to put his case. He told what
had happened simply; he told of his loneliness and discomfort.
And he emphasized the lack of sentiment that prompted the
arrangement.

Anita spoke then for the first time: "And when you tried to
terminate it she attempted to kill you!"

"I was acting the beast. I brought her up here, and then
neglected her for you."

"Then it was hardly only a business arrangement for her."

"It was at first. I never dreamed of any thing else. I swear
that, Anita. But lately, in the last month or two, she--I suppose
I should have seen that she--"

"That she had fallen in love with you. How old is she?"

"Nineteen."

A sudden memory came to Anita, of a slim young girl, who had
watched her with wide, almost childish eyes.

"Then it was she who was in the compartment with you on the train
coming up?"

"Yes."

"Where is she now?"

"In Vienna. I have not heard from her. Byrne, the chap who came
up to see me after the--after the accident, sent her away. I
think he's looking after her. I haven't heard from him."

"Why did you tell me all this?"

"Because I love you, Anita. I want you to marry me."

"What! After that?"

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 28th Dec 2025, 15:57

The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart