LADY FOR SHANGHAI

Wairarapa Times-Age, 18 August 1939, Page 10

LADY FOR SHANGHAI

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By 1

KAYE FOX

CHAPTER XIII. (Continued). “I want you to come up to the hospital, Miss Jordan,” he said, as soon as they were out of hearing of the stewardesses. “Miss Lind is asking for you.” “She’s not—worse?” Christine breathed. “No, but she’s worrying about something. and can’t sleep—and she must sleep if she is to make a quick recovery. She has been tossing about restlessly all the evening and hardly speaking, but she has just asked me whether I would fetch her sister.” “She must have wondered why I did not come to her. but I couldn’t come up to the hospital when she was Miss Crane's patient,” Christine said. John Stanhope had spoken so naturally that it wasn’t until they had. nearly reached the hospital that Christine realised that Fay had given their secret away—John Stanhope knew now that they were sisters.

Fay was lying very still in the narrow hospital bed, her eyes fixed on the doorway. She looked oddly childish, with a white bandage across her forehead, hiding most of her curls, and without any trace of make-up. Christine went straight across to the bed and stooped to kiss Fay, who flung her arms round her neck and hed her close.

"I couldn’t come before, darling," Christine murmured, "but I’ve been thinking about you all day. "And I’ve been thinking, too,” Fay said, “and I had to talk to you tonight, Christine, even though it’s so late, and you must be so tired. I’m sorry, I meant to wait until morning, but when Dr Stanhope asked me if I wanted anything I couldn't resist asking him to go for you.” . "I hadn't gone to bed—l was worrying about you, Fay.” “I’ve been a little beast to you, Christine —you’ve been worrying about me ever since we left. Sit down by me, Christine.”

“It won’t jar your head if I sit on the bed?”

"No, there’s nothing much wrong with my head. I've had a terrible headache all day, but it was from thinking top much. It’s almost gone now that you’ve come, Christine,” Christine sat down on the edge of the bed, and Fay, with a little sigh, snuggled up close to her. For a few minutes she did not speak, but pleated the edge of Christine apron between her restless fingers. ‘I wasn’t really iri love with Martin,” she said at last, in a low voice. “I was just —crazy about him, and I recovered all in a moment when he said what he did nast night. I knew before that, Christine, that I wasn’t in love with him, that it. was just my pride that was hurt when I. found out that he was married. Only—l was sort of playacting with myself. I wouldn't admit, even to myself, that 1 was such a little rotter that I was throwing myself at-. Martin's head, because he was wealthy and flattered me.”

“You didn't throw yourself at his head, Fay," Christine said, quietly. “He only said that to hurt you.”

“It would have been true if it hadn’t been for you. Christine. And that time in Penang—l know quite well that Martin did really fix it all up with Doria Smythe. I never even thanked you properly for coming ashore.” “I didn't want you to thank me. Fay." “And there's another thing," Fay said slowly, still pleating the edge of Christine's apron. “Are you really going to lose your job, because you went ashore? I know you said so. but I didn’t take it seriously somehow." “I may lose it. Mr Perrin is going to make a report—but. this isn’t the only job in the world, you know." “Can't I do anything?" Fay asked earnestly. "Couldn't 1 go to the Captain? He’s a dear old man. and I’m sure he’d understand, if 1 told him just how it happened." “You needn't worry, Fay—it'll all be thrashed out at the head office,” Christine said, smiling wisely to herself.

Fay was play-acting again, although she was so much in earnest, planning a dramatic reparation for the harm which she had done Christine: she would really enjoy asking the Captain for an interview and telling him all about it.

■‘And—what are you going to tel! mother?" Fay asked, in quite a different voice—she wasn’t play-acting now. "Very little. I’ll have to tell her why I went ashore in Penang, if there’s a row about it. but I needn't tell her that it wasn’t all rather casual and accidental. just a genuine mistake over sailing time. Mother isn't going to hear anything from me that will start her fretting about you. With thing.' as they arc in Shanghai, perhaps you will not be allowed to slay." "That’s what I’ve really been worrying about 'all day." Fax’ said. "1 don’t want mother to fret."

"Then you can go to sleep now?" "If you'll stay with me. Christine, just for a little time. I wish you could nurse me instead of that old cat. Miss Crane —she's been trying to pump me. and if my head hadn’t been aching so badly I should have been rude to her." It was a long time before Fay went to sleep. Although she had said so emphatically that, she hadn't really been in love with Martin Royile. Christine knew that she had endured a good deal during the last lew days, even before her accident. To a girl like Fay, it must have been torment to know that all the people about whom she had been so scornful were talking about her and pitying her. in a gloating sort of way. She had been so unpopular with them that their pity couldn’t be very heartfelt.

Fay was much calmer than' when Christine came up to the hospital. but every now and then she would rouse

herself, just when she seemed to be dropping off to sleep to murmur something about Roydc-—Christine couldn’t catch half the things she said When she’did fall asleep at last, the little breeze which came before the dawn was fluttering the curtain at the hospital window.

Christine stood up quietly, turned off the light, and went through into the outer room of the hospital. John Stanhope, his elbows on the narrow window ledge, was looking out, watching the slow fading of the stars in the tropic sky, but he turned swiftly when he heard Christine. ‘Tve got some coffee for you,” he said. “It only wants heating up but are you so tired that you’d rather go straight down to your own cabin?” “I’m not a bit tired, though I ex-

pect I shall be later on in the morning.

I’m so thankful about Fay—we've been almost enemies all the voyage, and it’s hurt me so badly, but we’ve made it up now.”

He pulled forward an armchair for her. and began to heat the coffee over the electric ring which stood on a table in the corner. Christine watched him, but he did not speak. Very carefully, Stanhope poured the coffee into two cups and handed one to Christine, and then swung himself up into his favourite place on the edge of the table.

“Why did you tell no one that you and Miss Lind were sisters?” he asked abruptly. , “Because Fay was ashamed of it. It was by sheer accident that we had to sail on the same ship, and I promised her that I wouldn’t let anyone know." “Ashamed! Christine, you don’t mean to tell me that that silly little girl was ashamed of you. Why, you’re worth a hundred of her.” “Not —socially,” she said, with a little smile. "My profession doesn’t rank very high, you know, and' Fay would have had rather a bad time if the passengers had found out. That’s why I had to be so careful not even to let the staff guess, and of course it was easy, in a way. since Fay and I are only half-sisters and haven’t got the same name.”

John Stanhope began stirring his coffee slowly, as if he was entirely absorbed in that task. His face was very grave' and intent, and she wondered what was coming next. “I’ve no right to ask you," he said at last, “but are you free, now, to tell me where you were, that night when Miss Robins was ill and you left the hospital?"

"I went to Fay. I heard by chance, from Arthur Grant, that Fay was with Royde in the cabin de luxe, and I went —to frighten her into leaving him. She was terrified that I would claim her as my sister." “From Arthur Grant?” he said thoughtfully. and then his manner changed suddenly, and lie burst out: “Tell me the truth. There have been all sorts of vague rumours around the ship about you and Grant—Perrin himself repeated them to me. When you have been out of your cabin at night, has it always been on account of your sister, because you were meeting her secretly? I would not have believed a word against you, if I had not seen you and Grant with my own eyes, here in the hospital, and remembered that other time, when you could not explain where you had been." "Grant told you the truth." she said, meeting his eyes. “He tried to kiss me that night., but he has never done such a thing before or since, and he apologised next morning." “Then you don’t —leave him?” “You didn't really think that I loved Arthur Grant, did you?" site asked quietly. “I didn’t know what to think. If — if it hadn't been so terribly important to me.. I might have taken no notice of what Perrin told me. but as it was • —it was all such a shock to me that I simply daren’t hope that there was some other explanation." “You daren't —hope," she whispered, “why not?’’

“Don't you know that I’m in love with you myself, Christine?” he asked, almost aggressively. “I believe it all started on signing-on day. when I looked across the table and saw you waiting to sign—I couldn't get you out of my head after that And then, when we were working together, it was all I could do not to tell you—l thought you'd think I'd gone quite mad if 1 proposed to you when we’d only known one another a few days, for that's what J wanted to do. I was just on the point of risking it when all this business blew up about Grant, and I thought I hadn’t a hope, and that it would make things very awkward for you if I said anything.” “Are you proposing to me now.’ John'.’" she said softly.

"Of course I am. Christine. Though I shan't think much of your judgment, 1 must admit, if you accept a man who's been ready to swallow such silly gossip about you. I'm not at all proud of myself. Christine."

"I just can't help accepting you. John," she told him. "You see —the same thing Happened to me on signingon day. though I didn't know it until a lot later. I've not been proud of myself, either—because I thought I was fretting my heart out for a man who didn't care at. all for me."

"We're a pair of fools," John laughed. and his blue eyes danced as lie stooped over her, and then suddenly grew very grave. "One kiss, sweetheart," he whispered. "and then you must go. It's daylight already—we’ve talked the sun up the sky."

It seemed to Christine that she had waited all her life for John's kiss, which pledged her to him until death parted them. They went out on to the boat deck together, into the fresh, salty air of early morning at sea. with the sea

birds wheeling and crying over- their heads. Below them, out of sight, some seamen were singing as they swabbed the decks, and though the song was really the latest film favourite, the accompaniment of wind and waves made it sound like, some old sea chanty. “We'll ask the Captain to marry us on the bridge, Christine, in true nautical fashion,” John suggested, looking up at the officer on watch, who was grinning at them as if he knew all about it. "And we'll ask Mr Perrin to give me away." Christine said, and laughed because she was so happy, and because nothing which Perrin could do could matter to her any more. She belonged to John now, THE END.

A SUPER-THRILLER

NEW STORY COMMENCES TOMORROW.

One of the maxims of Detective-In-spector Hopton, of Scotland Yard, was that a theory which involves the possibility i f a ghost having committed a crime is the very last that a police officer should accept. This was the advice he gave to Divisional-Inspec-tor Carlingford. when Carlingford inclined to the hypothesis of the Rev Charles Galesbourne that the murderer of Frederick Davis Scutt was some supernatural entity. Hopton kept to his theory, and the results and eventual truth of it appear in “Ebony Torso.” by John C. Woodiwiss, which The •'Wairarapa Tirnes-Age" have secured

for serial publication. By those who like undiluted thrills. "Ebony Torso” will rank as a memorable story. Described as a “superthriller," it lives up to its description by its abundance of excitement and its swift movement. John C. Woodiwiss is a practised writer of this kind of story, and author of “Mousebaek.” and "Death's Visiting Card." The first instalment of "Ebony Torso" appears tomorrow. Start at the first instalment and see if you can guess the conclusion before you reach the last.