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surface, of course, but not far under it there had been tightness and impatience. She snapped off the light. Conjecture could be wearing and she was beginning to feel so spent that she could sleep. But it must have been more than an hour later that she made her decision. It didn't matter that Helen would be triumphant over her departure with the Garretts; it was the sanest, the only course. The dense mist still clung around the house next morn- ing. Lucie rose from her bed rather stiffly and went to the window, and she saw that white curtain which still shut out the world. She heard cows lowing, the frustrated barking of a dog, the distant cackle of hens, and, not far away, the voice of, Ted, the foreman. "Reckon it'll lift today, Mr. Leverson, but not till late." "You're right. There's no wind, but you can feel it coming. We'll probably get another hot spell after this." "Sure. Them steers can stay on the range. I'll get the milk away before noon. Want the hands to get on with the new fencing on the road?" "Not till it's clear. Get them to exercise the horses." The voices receded. Lucie remained standing there for a while and for part of the time she daydreamed, seeing herself at a window of the ranch house every morning, 176 listening to Canadian voices, loving one of them so intensely that the happiness of it brought tears to her eyes. She straightened. Too touching, she told herself sternly; get dressed and behave like ,a normal young English- woman. You have money coming to you. . . . But it was Mart's money. She would always think of it that way, not as Uncle Niall's, and for that reason she would never be able to use it. Stupid, sentimental, childish she knew all the adjectives, but she couldn't help it. She would pass on the money to a charity, forget it, and Red Deer Valley. She wouldn't even go back to the advertising agency. Cut with Dinah, too; that was it. No more Canadian connections, nothing anywhere to remind her that this place was still existing, with Matt running the cattle on the wide pastures, galloping across the Valley to the fruit farm, driving out into the mountains. Matt making love, smiling in the mornings across the table with that lazy smile of his, acquiring a family . . . By the time she had washed and dressed in the green suit and white blouse, Lucie's face was white and drawn under her makeup; she had given too much rein to her thoughts. She descended the wide staircase into the big hall, saw that the stone fireplace was already cleaned up and-re-laid and heard sounds from the dining room. She put on a smile and went in, said good morning to Mr. Garrett and Matt, as Matt seated her. "Am I early?" she asked. "If I'd known you were getting up for breakfast," Matt said, I'd have sent you some early coffee. Mrs. Garrett and Helen are breakfasting in bed." "Am I in the way?" "Not at all," he said. "Is the orange juice sweet enough for you?" "It's just right. No cereal, thanks. Toast." "The bacon's good and hot. Or would you rather have only eggs-?" "Just the toast and some honey, thanks." He poured coffee for her, and said bluntly, "You look like the white blanket outside. Didn't you sleep?" "Oh, yes." -^ "Dream a lot?" 177 She glanced at him fleetingly. "I. don't remember dreaming. Why?" "You look it, somehow the troubled darkness about the eyes." A pause, then he added cynically, "You'll recover, honey." She buttered a finger of toast. "Recover from what?" she asked hardily. "That nasty little feeling dead centre of your diaphragm. It's a sort of depression in your mental solar plexus." "Really? Has it ever happened to you?" "No, but I've had the early symptoms." "And you got over them?" "I intend to take good care to see that they don't get any worse." Mr. Garrett gave his discreet cough. "You must come and see my wife and me before you leave Vancouver, Miss Denman. Me may even persuade you to remain in this country." "That's kind of you. Are you definitely going hojne this morning?" "Must, I'm afraid. I have an appointment at my office at four o'clock this afternoon, so I must start out ' early in case the fog stretches a long way." Lucie drank some coffee, watched the cup as she seated it in the saucer. "I was wondering," she said casually, "whether you and Mrs. Garrett would take me with you as a passenger and drop me off at an hotel. I'd be awfully obliged." Without much expression, Mart said, "That's imprac- ticable. You have to go over to the cabin to pack, and there'll probably be a letter in the post for you from Dinah. Mrs. Torrance will want to see you again, and there's the matter of looking over things at the farm picking up the personal belongings of your uncle, and so on." Coolly, he ended, "You don't have to make inde- pendent arrangements. We'll get you to Vancouver when the time comes." With a rather false heartiness Mr. Garrett commented, "I'm sure that's best, Miss Denman. You mustn't resent Matt because he's the buyer of the farm. After all, you and young Firland didn't hit it off, and you've done the 178 sensible thing. Matt will modernize the farm and put in a first-rate manager. . . ." "Skip it, Garry," interrupted Matt. "You're a good lawyer but you walk like an elephant. Are you coming up again later in the year?" "Can't we go north, for caribou? I remember once . . ." It was shortly after this that Scott and Micky bounded in from tin kitchen. At least, Scott bounded and Micky stumbled after him. Then the three rose from the table and there was a general movement to the hall. Mrs. Garrett came down in a corduroy slack suit and Helen followed her. Malloy went up for the bags and Matt and Mr. Garrett went to the garage. Helen looked fresh this morning, but watchful. When the men came in and announced the car was on the drive she looked up sweetly from her chair near the fire. "It's going to be lonely today with you three gone," she said. "You and I will have to amuse the boys, Matt." "Only Garry and his wife are going," he told her. "Oh, I thought Lucie had decided to beg a lift." Mr. Garrett said breezily, "Too much for her to do here [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |