“RENTS ARE LOW IN EDEN”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 6 March 1940, Page 10

“RENTS ARE LOW IN EDEN”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

PETER BENEDICT.

CHAPTER XVI. (Continued.) Mickey rose from his chair, and pushed the instrument into her hands, and sat upon the edge of the desk, watching her, as she dialled the exchange. Stanchester Central 7397 here. 1 want to call to London, please.” It did not take long; but in the silence while they waited, his eyes never left her face. He said: “What are you going to do?” “You’ll hear,” said Catherine, with a slow smile, and would not say another word until she spoke into the mouthpiece again, some six or seven minutes later. Then wnen he heard the number for which she asked, he gave an audible gasp, and after that listened with complete candour to every word, as she had half-invited him to do. “Hullo! Is that the law courts? I’m sorry if it’s irregular, but ! want to speak to my counsel.” She gave the number of the court, and the title of the case, with a wry twist of her mouth. “It’s a matter of great importance. This is Mrs Court speaking. Or —wait —could you bring Mr Strang to the telephone, then, instead? You’ll find him in court, with the prosecution.

And after what seemed an age to the two people waiting breathlessly in the little Stanchester office, Lyddon Strang came.

“Oh, Lyddon, this is Catherine speaking. Does it matter where I am? Now, listen', and please believe that I mean what I say. Tell Beresford to stop the case —to withdraw it altogether. Say it was undertaken on mistaken premises. Say I take full responsibility for it —I mean, the costs —and anything else there may be to hinder us—only the case has got to stop now—today. Yes ” A faint smile curved her lips. “Yes, you heard me right. I can’t explain now. Come up to Court Brandon, and I’ll tell you all about it. But now please get it done as I want it done. I shan’t rest until I know it’s finished with —the whole miserable business. Thank you —goodbye, Lyddon.”

The telephone rapped on its stand. “And thank you, Mr Dennis,’ she said tranquilly and pulling on her gloves moved towards the door.

Mickey sprang to open it; she smiled at that, but he did not care. She was a different woman to him now; and even if he was as far as ever from understanding her, he was nearer to admiring her. “Do you—does that really mean that —the case is washed out? What about the land? You see, the probability is that it is yours. The chief said so. How it that going, to be settled?” “You heard. I’ve stopped the case; that goes with it. He can go on building there now, and he’ll get no hindrance from me. The whole thing is over,” she said, in the doorway, with a spurt of passion suddenly filling her voice; “theres nothing left of it. Nothing at all!” But as she ran down the stairs from Adams office she knew that she had lied, that there was one positive and inescapable thing left out of all that wasted energy and enthusiasm. She felt it burning under her glove as she ran, the half-hoop of diamonds upon her engagement finger. CHAPTER XVIII. On the third day of the hearing of Court v Probert, the absence of the plaintiff was noticed and remarked upon by several people, and from several view-points. The newspapers missed her because she had made the former two days bearable by her near presence, and without her the affair became instantly as insufferably dull as they supposed it had always been in reality.

Lyddon Strang missed her chiefly because he was in agony about her state of mind, her whereabouts, and the tone of the message he had had from her after her flight on the previous evening. Beyond all this personal and very real suffering, he had been badgered unceasingly that morning, not only by Joan and Pony Dunstan, whose combined thoughts ran rather to search parties than court cases, but also by Ronnie Beresford and Massingham, who needed her continued presence before the eyes of the exclusively masculine jury in order to make the case sufficiently interesting to run the possible damages high. He had put them all off with a thin story of an unexpected duty to call back to Court Brandon, and assured them that, she would be back during the day. Ronnie Beresford missed her because, apart from the flickleness or otherwise of jurymen's memories, he liked Catherine very much, and was not averse to her notice.

But no one knew why the defendant should regret her absence: indeed, no one but Lyddon knew that he did regret it. Adam had stopped him as they entered the court, and asked: . “Isn't Mrs Court with you this morning? I hope she’s not ill?" Reassured on this point with more information, he had smiled his vaguely irritating smile which seemed always to see a little more of the funny side of things than Lyddon could believe existed, and fallen back contentedly to his own place. Yet, as he sat listening to Wyndham's sarcastic drawl opening the defence for him, the court seemed to him singularly empty and dull without, that blue dress, and those dark brown eyes continually watching, and that calm and implacable face turning now and then from one of her supporters to another, without a smile, and with no

apparent anxiety. To him. too, the case had become dull; the causes of it seemed curiously far away, and the only real things

about the whole affair were her figure and his, facing each other in the darkness beside the pool, in the moment before the moon rose over the water. It was odd how a fight which had begun in a spate of feelings so intense could ebb into such a dreary monotony, could seem now so petty and so chidis.h Things had changed; and he knew that they had suffered a change than any shifting of principles could work upon them. He wondered if she felt anything of that transmutatation. He rose to give evidence still in the contemplative mood to which the remembrance of her face meant more than the instinct to fight for anything. “On Tuesday, September 4,” remarked Wyndham, studying the effect of his long fingers against the papers spread before him, "you made the purchase upon which this case turns —you bought the three meadows bordering on Holly Lane, from the District Council.’’ “I did,” said Adam. “The project had not been previously mentioned to the council?” '“No. It had been in my mind for about a week, though.” “And to whom did you go on Tuesday, September 4?” "To the chairman, Mr Washburn, at the Council Offices.” “At what time was this?” “At about ten in the morning, I suppose, when I got there. At any rate, the clock in the vestibule stood at about a quarter to eleven when I left.” “Did the chairman make any demur about the sale?” “He would have preferred to have the proposal laid before the whole Council, I think; but I wanted it at once, or not at all, so he agreed to take the responsibility for the sale.” “Did he make any mention whatever of the plaintiff, or any claim she might be able to make on the said property?” “No, and I’m sure he was aware of none.” “Did you meet anyone as you left the offices?” “Yes,” said Adam, “I met Mrs Court just going in. I didn’t know her then, but she was pointed out to me later the same day.” “I shall call witnesses, my lord,” said Wyndham, “to show that Mrs Court, on that same day, visited no fewer than ten members of the Council, and various other influential pepple also, and begged them to help her to get rid ‘Of Mr Probert by any means.” The court buzzed for the first time that morning, but this lime the sound was vaguely somnolent, like the bees in the limes of Court Brandon. “From this time until the day that you received the writ, did Mrs Court give you any indication that she had oi* could have such a claim against you.” “No.”

“Therefore you had, of course, no opportunity to withdraw from your position. Did you pay a visit to her on that day, and make her the offer of which we have heard before —to buy the disputed ground from her at her own price” “Yes, I did.” “An offer which, I understand, she refused without hesitation or attempt to reach an agreement?” “She refused it absolutely.”

Wyndham relinquished the witness at last to Ronnie Beresford, who had few but choice questions to ask him. There was no doubt that the court was bored. When Catherine had departed the possibility of drama left with her. Not even the curious anxiety of the defendant to redeem the character of the plaintiff could quite restore it. “On the occasion of your first interview with Mrs Court,” said Ronnie Beresford, “will you agree with me that there was what amounted to formal declaration of war between the two of you? You stood for belief in different things; that was all. And each of you fully understood the position. Am I right in saying that?” “Entirely. Mrs Court expressed absolute enmity, and I understood her point of view.” “This state of war, then, was mutually agreed to?”

“It was.” “And has she, in your opinion, conducted it in an honourable fashion?" “Absolutely." “Do you yourself, then, think that she owed you any further warning of the movements she intended to make against you, after that day?” . “No. She owed me no more consideration than countries in a state of war owe to each other; and so much she gave me from the beginning.” “It seems to me," said the judge, “a very remarkable arrangement." “It was rather understood than expressed. my lord; but there's no doubt whatever that we both accepted it. And it has," said Adam with a smile, “when you have a trustworthy opponent. at any rate, considerable advantages over certain other business methods." Ronnie Beresford turned over a note upon his table, and Wyndham continued to fill in with maddening precision, and no regard for the memory of Mr Deeds, every 0 in the papers before him. And at that moment a diversion was. caused by the entrance of an attendant, who drew every eye upon himself as he wound his quiet way to Lyddon Strang's side. (To be Continued.)