Woman’s Illustrated February 15 1958 Page 7/8

In the ducal palace was all the wealth and luxury" she had dreamed of, "but now she was afraid and angry 

"Where is my brother?" She asked. "Why did he send for me?"

The Golden Gondola 

by Barbara Cartland

Illustrated by Edwin Phillips

FIRST CHAPTERS 

THERE are only two survivors from a disastrous shipwreck on the shores of Italy in 1750. They are Sir Harvey Drake, baronet, of England, and Paolina Mansfield. Paoline is utterly destitute, with no money, friends or relations.

Sir Harvey, impressed by her beauty, suggests that he should take her to Venice as his sister, and there marry her to one of the rich nobles in that city. 

Paolina has no choice but to agree, but she cannot understand how he will have enough money to give an impression of wealth, as he intends. Sir Harvey does not tell her that he salvaged valuable jewels from the ship. "

They break their journey to Venice at Ferrara, and there order magnificent new clothes, and Sir Harvey confers with a jeweller. They receive a visit from the Duke of Ferrara, who, to Sir Harvey's delight, is obviously infatuated with Paolina. 

Paolina herself, however, does not like the Duke, and this feeling is confirmed-when they dine with him that evening. She is upset and disgusted by his advances to her. Sir Harvey is angered by her reception of the Duke, but he is gratified when flowers and a note arrive from him the next morning, and he hopes that the Duke will ask for the hand of his "sister," 

Then Sir Harvey learns that the Duke’s engagement to the Princess d'Este is shortly to be announced-it is a marriage that will amalgamate two great Italian estates, 

Sir Harvey contents himself with" taking Paolina for a walk in the centre of the town, where she causes a sensation.

(The story now continues) 

continued on page 28

BACK at the inn they talked and rested until late in the afternoon.

"To-night we dine with the Conte and Contessa Mauro," Sir Harvey said. "But that is not for some hours. I think I will go for a ride. I am so used to taking a lot of exercise that I find this leisurely life gives me a headache." 

"But, of course, I understand," Paolina said. "A ride will do you good." 

"The landlord tells me he has some decent horseflesh. I have said I will tryout his best and if it is not good enough he must find me something better. I shall not be long." , 

" Do not worry about me," Paolina said. "What time shall I be ready for you?" 

He told her and when he had gone she went to her bedchamber.

Because she was restless, because she was afraid of her own thoughts, she started to undress. It took her a long time to bathe, to sit in a wrapper until the coiffeur came to do her hair in a new style. 

He arranged tong curls hanging over her shoulders, and at the side of her head he set two red ribbons to mingle with the gold of her hair. 

The gown she had chosen for that evening was of red satin, and her little cap matched the exquisite white lace at the sleeve of her dress. 

Sir Harvey had chosen a magnificent white velvet cape lined with red satin to match the dress. 

She was ready long before the appointed hour and wondered whether Sir Harvey had yet returned, She was too shy to cross the sitting-room and knock on the door of his bed-chamber, and yet she felt suddenly bored with sitting alone in her own room.

She opened the door. The sitting-room was empty. There were only the great bowls of flowers from the bouquets the Duke had sent her, the fragrance of them filling the whole room until it seemed almost like a bower. 

There was no sign of Sir Harvey. His hat was not on the chair where he habitually threw it when he came in, and although Paolina listened hard there was no sound or movement from the other bedchamber. 

It was then that she heard someone coming up the stairs. She turned expectantly, feeling sure it was Sir Harvey returned from his ride. But when the door opened a flunkey stood there. He wore a dark cloak and a tricorn hat on his powdered wig. 

He swept the hat from his head and bowed low.  

"I have brought a message for you Signorina, from his Excellency your brother," he said. 

"A message?" Paolina inquired, " Why has he not come himself?" 

"His Excellency is detained," the flunkey replied, "and he asks that you will be gracious enough to join him. He has sent a carriage for you." 

"Yes, of course, I will come," Paolina answered.

She went back into her room to collect the cape to put round her shoulders. Then as she joined the flunkey she asked, "Where is my brother?" 

" His Excellency is in the house of a friend," the flunkey replied. "He is anxious that you should go to him as quickly as possible."

Paolina suddenly stood still. An idea had come to her, something which made her voice tremulous as she asked, "There has not been an accident, has' there? He has not fallen from his horse?"

"His Excellency is quite well, Signorina. If you will come this way." 

SHE followed the flunkey down the stairs, through a door to the courtyard where a carriage was waiting. Paolina just had time to see that it was a closed carriage without the usual coat of arms embellishing the door; then she was inside and the horses started off. Four horses! It struck her as strange that there should be so many if this were a hired carriage that Sir Harvey had sent for her. And yet, if it belonged to one of his friends; why was there no coat of arms?

She wrinkled her brow, puzzling as to the meaning of this. If, in fact, there had been no accident, why had Sir Harvey not returned? It was time for him to change for dinner. He could not dine in his riding clothes. 

On they went, and now she was utterly and completely convinced that Sir Harvey had suffered an accident. 

" Dear God, do not let him be hurt," she murmured, praying, because she was anxious for him, with an intensity which seemed to come from her very heart. 

AT last, after what seemed an aeon of time-although it was only about half an hour-the carriage swung off the road, through high, ornamental gates. 

Paolina sat forward to try to get a glimpse of the house that lay ahead. It was an important mansion, as she could tell by its roofs and turrets. Then, almost before she could get a proper look at it, the carriage swung round and pulled up at a porticoed entrance.

She stepped quickly out of the coach as soon as the steps were put down. Flunkeys in gold braided, uniform and powdered wigs ran to assist her and take her cape. She was led into a hall with marble-pillars supporting an exquisitely painted ceiling.

The majordomo threw open the door of a room. It was a small salon, as Paolina saw in one quick glance. She had a quick impression of a gleaming chandelier, of brocade hangings, of great bowls of flowers and exquisite pictures; and then she knew that the person she looked for was not there. The sofas and chairs were empty. 

"Where is Sir Harvey ? " 

She heard her own voice ring out loudly because of the fear that was in her heart. She turned as she spoke only to see, to her astonishment, the doors through which she had come close.

She stood for a moment in bewilderment, and then stepped forward to open the door herself, to find someone, to demand an explanation. 

"Can I help you?" a voice asked from the other end of the room.

Paolina whirled round, Coming from between two softly hanging curtains there was a man. She stared at him for a moment as if she could hardly believe her eyes. Then the sudden tenseness of her body told her only too well who it was. It was the Duke! 

She walked towards him swiftly with her head held high.

"What are you doing here?" she inquired. "And where is my brother?" 

"I am here," the Duke replied suavely, "because this happens to be my house-my hunting lodge to be exact. May I welcome you to it with all my heart?" 

"Where is my brother?" Paolina questioned. 

"Your brother !" The Duke made a gesture with his hands. "As far as I know he is in Ferrara"

"You mean he is not here? There has been no accident? Then why did he send for me? " 

"Shall we sit down?" the Duke asked. 

" I would rather stand," Paolina said. "I want an explanation from Your Grace . . . and then I must go."

"I regret that my coach has been sent away," the Duke answered,

Paolina looked found her. 

"If this is your house, what am I doing here? " she asked. "You sent your servants to tell me that my brother needed me." She looked up at the Duke's face and then stamped her foot. "It was a trick," she said accusingly. "A trick to get me here! Your Grace should be ashamed of himself! " 

"You are very lovely when you are angry," the Duke smiled. "You are more beautiful even than I remember you to be. Why would you not see me yesterday?" 

"Your Grace," Paolina said with a sudden resolution in her voice. "This may be your idea of a joke, but I assure you it is nothing of the sort to me. You have brought me here under false pretences; by a lie which made me worried and perturbed lest my brother should have been badly injured.

"It is not how I should have expected a gentleman of your birth and breeding to behave. Nevertheless, the joke is now over. I wish to return immediately to Ferrara." 

"Come and sit down," the Duke begged, " and let us talk." 

"There is nothing to talk about," Paolina replied. "I wish to leave." 

"I WILL give you anything in the world that you will ask of me," the Duke answered, "even my name." 

"This is nonsensical," Paolina exclaimed. " You cannot kidnap me. This is a civilized country. Can you imagine what would be said?" 

"That is just the point; will anything be said ?" the Duke replied.

"If you imagine my brother is going to find me missing and just sit down and take it as a matter of course, you are very much mistaken," Paolina said hotly. 

"I have sent an emissary to deal with your brother, I think perhaps you will find he is not so incensed as you imagine," There was a. sudden pause. 

"What do you mean by that?" Paolina asked after a moment. 

"I mean, my very sweet and very lovely lady," the Duke answered, "that I have been making inquiries about your brother. He has at the moment apparently quite a lot of money-money obtained from the jewellery that he sold when he arrived here after your adventures in the storm. But from all accounts he is not always possessed of such funds." 

He paused, watching her face, then he continued, "What I am asking myself is, will that money-a great sum though it may be-last for ever? A man who is sometimes on the edge of penury will often talk sound business:" 

"I do not know what you are saying," Paolina said. 

"I think you do," the Duke contradicted. "At any rate, your brother has a head for business. What I am offering him would, to any ordinary business man, be a very sound and very generous proposition.

"Are you inferring that you are offering my brother money for me ? "Paolina asked. "That you are trying to buy me?" 

"Must we put things so crudely? " the Duke asked. "What I am offering you, my dear, is the devotion of a man who loves you very deeply." 

He stepped forward as he spoke and took her hand in his. 

"I love you," he repeated, and kissed her fingers. 

At the touch of his lips Paolina shivered and would have taken her hand away, but the Duke prevented it. 

"Are you really so cold?" he asked. "Have your English chills and grey skies got into your blood that there is no fire in you? If that is so then I must warm you. I cannot believe that your lips are as cold as your words. Shall I try them and see?" 

He pulled her towards him, but with a sudden spurt of fear Paolina fought herself free. 

"DO not dare touch me," Paolina cried. "I am here against my will. You may be trying to buy me, but I still have a will of my own. I will not belong to you, do you hear? I will never be yours, however much you may pay for me." 

"Can you be sure of that the Duke asked, "I love you, I adore you; and I promise you we shall be very happy together. I am going to take you to a house that I own in Verona, It is high on a hill overlooking the town. The river runs like a silver stream through its gardens. There we will be alone, my love-just you and I-to get to know each other. And you will learn to love me."

"Never! Never'" Paolina managed to gasp.

She ran desperately down the room towards the door, her red gown winging out behind her as if she were a fluttering bird who would escape from its tormentor. 

The Duke watched her go. Only as she reached the door did his voice stop her. 

"I would hate to humiliate you by commanding my servants to drag you back," he said quickly. "Yet should you attempt to leave this house, that is exactly what they will do." 

Paolina stood looking at him. She was still on tiptoe, ready for her effort to escape, and yet she could not but realize the truth of his words. She had seen the army of retainers who were waiting at the door when she arrived-stalwart young men against whose strength she would not have the slightest chance of escape. 

I am beaten, she thought to herself; and then some instinct, or perhaps it was some power which protects us all in the very worst moments of stress, whispered to her. Play for time. 

Her hand went up to her hair. Slowly she walked back towards the Duke, going nearer but not too near, watching him warily yet trying to gain control over herself. 

"It is past the dinner hour," she said, "Does Your Grace's hospitality extend to offering me something to eat? " 

"We will dine immediately." 

"I wish first to tidy myself." 

"My housekeeper will show you to your room," he replied. "She will, of course, be in attendance so that you can ask her for anything that you require."

There was a threat lying beneath the courtesy, as Paolina well  knew. 

In silence she allowed herself to be escorted up the broad staircase to a magnificent bedchamber on the first floor. 

The housekeeper brought her warm and scented water, and stood, while she washed, holding a linen towel edged with a deep lace border. Automatically Paolina washed her face and tidied her hair. 

All the time her brain was seeking desperately for some method of escape; all the time she was trying to avoid the fear in her heart-not only of the Duke, but of another, deeper fear that had come from his words. 

She could not help the question asking itself-whether Sir Harvey might not be tempted to accept the money which the Duke was offering him in exchange for her.  

After all, she told herself, what was she to him but a girl he had befriended some days ago. It was hard to believe that he could feel any affection or any loyalty towards her. 

"Help me! Help me!" She breathed the words beneath her breath, but even so the housekeeper asked, "M'lady spoke?"

"No, it is nothing," Paolina answered. 

She looked at the woman almost for the first time as she spoke, wondering if there were any chance of help here. 

The housekeeper was a dark-faced, ageing Italian and Paolina was certain, owed all her loyalty to the Duke, whose family she had doubtless served all the years of her life. 

THERE- was nothing else to delay her. She was ready and she knew that the Duke would be waiting. What was Sir Harvey doing? She wondered if he were packing his bags, leaving the inn, going his own way to Venice, delighted with the knowledge that he had enough money to keep himself in comfort for many years. 

"Help me! Help me!" 

Her heart cried out the words silently and. then, with a dignity that was somehow pathetic because of her utter helplessness, she went slowly down the great staircase into the marble hall. 

When Paolina reached the hall, her feeling of bravado had vanished. She knew she was facing the most desperate and dangerous moment of her life. Yet there was nothing she could do to avoid it. 

If she were to try to stay upstairs, she felt that the Duke saw quite capable of having her dragged into his presence. Besides, the mere fact of having dinner would delay matters and might also give her a chance of, finding some way of escape. 

There was also at the back of her mind the hope that Sir Harvey would come and save her. She thrust from her the urgings of common sense which said that she could mean nothing to him. She shied a way from the idea that he might accept this windfall and ride away.

A footman hurried forward as her foot touched the last stair. 

"His Grace's compliments, and he is waiting for you, "Milady." 

P AOLINA inclined her head and followed him down a corridor lit with a hundred tapers, then up another staircase not so elaborate as the one she had just descended, but smaller and obviously leading to a special wing of the house. 

The room into which she was shown was beautiful but small. The Duke came forward as a Paolina approached and taking her hand raised it to his lips. The mere touch of his mouth made her shudder, but she managed to say, in a voice which even to herself sounded calm, "I had hoped we would dine in your banqueting hall, Your Grace. I am sure it is very fine."

"I prefer that we should be here," he answered.  

At the Duke's request, she seated herself at one side of the table.

The dishes on which dinner was served were all of gold, and the food was exotic and exciting, although Paolina could eat little.

The golden wines, to fill the engraved glasses, seemed still to hold the sun- shine which had ripened the grapes. 

"Tell me about yourself;" the Duke commanded.

Paolina shook her head. 

"Tell me, instead, what you do," she answered. "I know that there have been Dukes of Ferrara since medieval days." 

"And before that," he answered, but she could see that his thoughts were not on her questions but on herself.

The Duke's eyes narrowed as he watched her. 

"You are exquisite," he said. "I thought so that very first afternoon when I called on your brother. When you dined at the castle I was convinced that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my whole life. To-day has merely confirmed what I already knew-that I love you." 

Paolina turned her head aside. 

"It is not love you feel for me, Your Grace," she said: 

"Then what is it?" he asked. "Have you ever felt that your whole being was tingling and afire because someone in particular was near you? Have you not longed to touch him; to feel his lips on yours; to know his heart was beating quicker because you were near?" 

As he spoke he put out his hand to touch her. Before he could do so Paolina had sprung to her feet. 

"No! No, Your Grace!" she protested. "That is not love." 

"I beg of Your Grace to let me go. Say you are only doing this to frighten me : that you do not mean to keep me here."

"IF I let you go, what will happen to you?" the Duke asked. "Your brother, by now, is on his way to the coast. Part of the bargain that he made was that my burchiello should take him to Venice. Within the space of an hour he should be aboard. Without me, without friends, I think it impossible that you could ever reach him."

"It is not true," Paolina cried. "He cannot have gone; he cannot have left me." 

"I assure you that he has," the Duke answered. "I did not doubt for one moment that my offer would fail to tempt him, but while you were upstairs preparing yourself for dinner my Officer-of-Horse, who had been in communication with your brother, returned. He informed me that my offer had been accepted."

"It is not true! It cannot be true!" Paolina said through lips which were suddenly white and stiff. 

"My dear, brothers are not always so fortunate as to be rid so easily or so comfortably of their sisters." 

Paolina looked at him and then suddenly she stepped forward and kneeled beside him.

"Spare me, Your Grace," she pleaded. "There are thousands of women in the world who would be only too thrilled and honoured to be where I am at this moment. But let me go." 

The Duke looked at her and then bent forward to cup her little chin. with his hand.

"You entrance me," he said. "Everything about you is new and exciting." 

"Doe's my enmity and my hatred mean nothing to you?" Paolina cried. She wanted to run away from him again. Yet she felt as if he mesmerized her so that she could only stand with her shoulders pressed against the door, praying that she could escape him, knowing that there was not the slightest chance of her doing so. 

Nearer and nearer he came, his dark eyes alight. 

She screamed, but the sound was lost almost immediately as his mouth descended on hers and silenced her voice. She tried to struggle against him, but it was hopeless. His arms completely enfolded her. With a sense of desolation she stared up at his face. 

There was a sudden crash, the sound of breaking glass. The Duke swung round and as he did so the curtains over one of the windows parted. Almost unconsciously the Duke's grasp of Paolina loosened, and with a sudden movement she sprang from his arms. 

"Harvey!"

 Paolina was hardly able to say the word and then she had run across the room to fling herself against him as he stood there, sword in hand, confronting the Duke. 

"Harvey, you have come! You are in time. Oh, thank heavens! "

The tears were streaming down Paolina’s face. She had not cried before in her terror, but now the tears came and with them a relief so overwhelming that she felt as if her whole body dissolved in the ecstasy of it.  

"What are you doing here?" 

The Duke had managed to speak at  last, and in answer Sir Harvey pushed Paolina a little aside and walked towards him.

"I think you know the answer to that." 

"I understood that you had accepted my terms," the Duke replied. 

"Did you really think I would abandon my sister? You must have queer tastes Your Grace. I have never forced my attentions on anyone unwillingly. It is something which no decent man does."

"That is my business and not yours," the Duke snarled "Get out of here or my servants will put you out." . 

"Your servants have, I think, retired for the night," Sir Harvey answered. 

"This is a matter we can settle by ourselves. Get your sword." 

The Duke looked at the naked sword in Sir Harvey's hand and said, " And if I refuse to fight you? "

"Then I shall run you through as you stand there," Sir Harvey said. "I am treating you as if you were a gentleman, which, under the circumstances, is, I consider, very decent of me."

Without a word the Duke took up his sword from where it lay, hanging in an embroidered belt, over the back of a chair. Its fine. tempered steel shone in the light of the candles as, suddenly, he lunged at Sir Harvey. Only by a quick movement of his whole body did Sir Harvey manage to avoid being killed. . 

"So, that is the way you fight, is it, you swine?" he said through his teeth. 

WATCHING them, Paolina thought she had never before seen such skill and knew that it was because both men were fighting with all the determination and strength that was in them. 

Each meant to kill the other. It was obvious in the tenseness of Sir Harvey's face and the steel grey of his eyes, the grim determination of his chin. It was obvious in the expression on the Duke's face, which was one of violent and irrepressible anger. 

But although he may have lost some advantage by his temper, he was the better swordsman of the two. He fought with a violence which Paolina knew only too well would show no mercy to a defeated enemy. 

As they fought, small tables, priceless objets d’art, chairs with their carved cupids, and even the flower vases with their exotic contents were spilled over the floor. The sofa they thrust aside; the dining-table was pushed so violently against the wall that the gold-threaded tablecloth was caught by one of the duellists and everything on it was pulled to the floor. Orchids lay trampled amidst the broken crystal glasses and gold ornaments.

Paolina realized that there could only be one end to this fight. If the Duke were only wounded, he would somehow try to have Sir Harvey and herself apprehended and perhaps imprisoned. Only if the Duke were dead could they be free. 

And yet even though she loathed him, she could not bring it on herself to wish the death of another fellow being. She almost cried out to the men to stop fighting. Was she worth such a fight? And yet she knew now that they were so intent on their battle that she, the reason for it, was half forgotten. 

As their fighting grew fiercer and still more fierce, they ceased to speak. She could hear their breath coming gaspingly between their lips. It was then that the Duke began to fail. He was the older man of the two, he was heavier of build, and while Paolina had merely pecked at her dinner he had eaten heavily. 

The sweat was running off his forehead and Sir Harvey saw his advantage. With a tremendous effort, because he himself was beginning to get fatigued, he circled round the Duke and while he was still striving to face the quick-moving Englishman. Sir Harvey made a sudden lunge at him. 

The point of his sword passed through the Duke's coat and pierced his left breast. He staggered, dropped his sword, clapped his sword hand to the wound, and then collapsed slowly on to the floor. 

Paolina ran forward. 

"Is he dead?" she asked. 

Blood was beginning to spread over the Duke's white coat. Sir Harvey bent down and pulled it off.

"Get me the table napkins," he said brusquely. 

Paolina hurried to do his bidding. Sir Harvey tore off a portion of the Duke's shirt. She saw that the wound, while pouring blood, was not as low as she had at first thought. ' 

"Have you killed him?" she asked again. 

Sir Harvey shook his head. 

"Heavens, no," he answered. "He's unconscious from shock more than anything."

As he spoke he was making a pad of the napkins, staunching the wound with them and then bandaging the shoulder in a rough-and-ready manner which, at the same time, was singularly effective. 

The Duke was still unconscious and Sir Harvey piled cushions behind him so that, though his legs were straight out before him, his body was almost upright. The cushions also supported his injured arm and shoulder so that by the time they had finished he looked comparatively comfortable. 

"He is still unconscious," Paolina said, and added doubtfully, "You are quite sure that he is not dead? " 

"Not he," Sir Harvey said.  "It is really only a flesh wound. Had it been several inches lower, that would have been a different matter." 

"We cannot leave him like this," Paolina said. "And anyway, the door is locked." 

"We are going out the way I came in," Sir Harvey said briefly. "He will be quite all right until the morning. Cover him up with a rug or something. He will feel cold when he comes to."

They covered the Duke's legs. Then Sir Harvey sheathed his own sword and glanced round the room as if in search of something. 

"What do you want? " Paolina asked. .. Something to keep you warm," he answered. .. Look, this will do." 

As he spoke, he pulled from a side-table which had not been knocked over, a beautifully embroidered table cloth. It was edged with lace but otherwise was made of satin, richly embroidered with coloured silks inset with tiny precious stones. The flowers and orchids which were on the table crashed to the floor. Sir Harvey paid not the slightest heed to them. 

" Put this round you," he said. draping it over Paolina's shoulders. "You have got a long drive ahead of you." 

"A drive?" she queried. 

"We cannot waste time in explanations,"  Sir Harvey answered. "Come along." 

With hardly a backward look at the Duke who was beginning to moan and regain consciousness, he pulled aside the curtain through which he had entered. Then he drew Paolina out on to the small balcony. They were on the first floor and she saw that on this side of the house it was not very high. Yet, nevertheless, as she looked over the balcony, it was quite a drop into the darkness below.

"How are we going to get down?" he asked. 

"The same way as, I got up," be answered. "You will fin a foothold amongst the wistaria."

With hands that were trembling and which were suddenly very cold, she grasped hold of the twisted stems of the wistaria and very gingerly tried to raise herself on to the edge of the balcony.

Sir Harvey settled the matter by picking her up in his arms and putting her over the edge.

"I have hold of you," he said. "Do not be frightened. Just find a place for your feet."

"Please, do not leave go of me," Paolina begged. 

"It is all right," he said soothingly. "Now put your right hand lower than your left and your foot down at the same time."

Trembling so that she could scarcely do as he told her, Paotina somehow managed to obey. He was still holding her tightly round the waist and then he transferred his grip to her arms, and then, as she went lower, he gradually let go of her.

 A moment later she found her foot was touching the ground and that she was none the worse for her climb save that her hands were roughened and her gown soiled. 

She picked up the tablecloth. Which had fallen from her shoulders, and wrapped it round herself again. Sir Harvey was coming quickly down the wall. He reached her side and without a word hurried her into the shadow of some trees. 

"Come along," he said. . "We do not want to be seen and caught at this juncture." 

They started running through some shrubberies, moving so swiftly that more than once Paolina caught her foot in the root of a tree and would have fallen headlong if Sir Harvey's arm had not sustained her. 

She felt her skirt catch on the brambles. She pulled it loose and hurried on. She was breathless and quite incapable of speech when, after nearly a quarter of an hour, they came through a small wood on to the road. In the moonlight Paolina could see a travelling carriage was waiting. 

(Another instalment next week.)

Woman’s Illustrated February 15 1958 Page 10/11

She chose a circlet of flowers and he arranged it in her hair

They were falling in love, lingering over each moment together

RainBow Tulip

by Charles Terrot

Illustrated by Earnshaw

FIRST CHAPTERS

MIKE FOSTER and Barbara, his fifteen-year-old sister, are on a spring holiday in Amsterdam. Mike, who is a Customs Officer, is finishing his convalescence after a motor cycle accident. While he was in hospital he was jilted by his fiancee. 

continued on page 13

Staying at their hotel is the famous and beautiful model, Linda Cartright, and her father. 

Barbara and Linda become great friends and at a fashion show in the Keukenhof Park Linda introduces her to Madame Rissac, who runs a model training school in Paris. Madame Rissac consents to accept Barbara as a pupil. Barbara writes and tells this news to her guardian -the somewhat unpleasant Auntie Grace. 

As neither Linda nor Mike seems particularly attracted to each other, and Barbara decides they ought to be, she conceives a plan to stimulate Mike's interest in Linda. She hints that there is something mysterious about Linda's holiday in Amsterdam and that she may even be involved in smuggling. 

After the fashion show Mr. Van Loman, a Bond Street jeweller who has helped Linda a great deal in her career, gives a party. His son Eddie suggests an expedition to the rough area of Amsterdam, the Zeedijk. Barbara is left behind with a sixteen-year-old Spaniard, Rafael Montenegro, with whom she has become friendly. 

They visit several night-clubs and in one Mike becomes acquainted with an underworld character, Ticker Watson. In the street outside Linda is attacked by two "roughs" and Mike, in rescuing her, becomes involved in a brawl in which he acquits himself admirably. 

Back in her bedroom at the hotel Linda is attending to his slight wounds when he spots a photograph on the mantelpiece. He guesses it to be Linda's boy friend who is, unknown to Mike, a member of Interpol. 

The next day Mike and Linda go to Haarlem where they hire bicycles to tour the bulb fields. Linda makes some rather unfortunate comments about Customs Officers, not knowing Mike's job. It seems as if Barbara's plan is working. 

(The story now continues) 

ON this fine Saturday morning in April, thousands of tourists had come to see the bulb fields, and the roads were packed with, cars, coaches and bicycles. Before long, Mike forgot his irritation at the somewhat tactless remarks which Linda had unwittingly made, and he became filled with wonder at the dazzling beauty of the scene which unfolded itself as they cycled on through the world's largest flower garden. 

On either side of the cobbled roads stretched immense carpets of golden daffodils, pastel-hued hyacinths and tulips of every shade; The fields seemed to stretch to the horizon, a mosaic of unbelievable colours, from which rose a mixture of sweet scents that enhanced the atmosphere of fairy tale unreality. Mike was a little puzzled by the huge heaps of blooms dumped along the sides of the fields, obviously being left to wither and yet at present looking like piled fireworks which had been magically frozen rigid as they exploded in a riot of crimson, orange, purple and golden flames. 

"What's the point of them?" he asked Linda. "It seems an awful waste to throwaway perfectly good flowers." 

" It's part of the Dutch system of bulb cultivation," she explained. "Directly the blooms are full out, they are whipped off and that makes for bigger and better bulbs. In a few days time, these particular fields will be completely stripped."

PRESENTLY they came to a flower-stall with garlands made from these nipped-off blooms. They cost only about ninepence (about 9cents) each and people were buying them to hang on the bonnets of their cars, on the handlebars of their bicycles, round their necks and even on their heads. 

Mike insisted on stopping, for he thought Linda would look very nice wearing a circlet of flowers. He was quite right. She chose one and let him arrange it on her silky, flaxen hair, and he was so pleased with the result that he wished he could take a photo of her. 

"What a fool I was not to bring a camera!" he exclaimed. 

"I've got one if you want to borrow it," she said. 

"Surely not on you?" he asked, for he could see no sign of a camera. 

For an answer she put her hand in the pocket of her tartan skirt and drew out an instrument which was about the size of a cigarette-lighter. 

"Here you are," she said, handing it to him. "Where did you get is from ?" he exclaimed curiously, for he recognized it as an extremely rare German camera made during the war for the use of spies. Once before he had come across a similar one when searching through" a traveller's suitcase at London Airport; it subsequently transpired that it had been stolen, and the man in question was a notorious underworld character. 

"Someone gave it to me," she answered. ,

"Who?" 

She laughed a little crossly. "Really, Mike, is it any of your business?" 

"No of course not-I'm sorry; I just wondered, as you can't even buy these things secondhand. I believe there are only about fifty in existence." 

"How interesting! Well, do you want to use it ? " 

"Yes-thanks," he said hastily. 

As she showed him how it worked, he told himself' there was no valid reason why the fact of her possessing it should make him any more suspicious of her-it was simply that his automatic association with it was one of spying and thefts and the underworld generally. 

Looking at her through the viewfinder he thought with pleasure what an attractive picture she would make-her fair head, crowned with flowers, standing out against a blue sky. 

After he had taken the photo, she took one of him standing self-consciously by his bicycle with a garland of tulips round his neck. Then a complete stranger-a Dutchman who thought he had seldom seen a better-looking couple-took a photo of them both with his own camera and promised to send them colour prints. Then after exchanging addresses and a lot of hand-shaking they continued on their way.

It was nearly two o'clock when they arrived back at Haarlem, their skins aglow and their eyes bright with health. Linda said she was very thirsty, and so before choosing a place to have lunch they went into a beautiful old tavern, the interior of which had changed little in the past four hundred years. Sand was sprinkled on the floor, and on the walls were old blue tiles each depicting a different scene. The landlord was stout and cherubic-faced; with a white apron girding the immensity of his stomach, he looked like a figure from a Brueghal painting. After welcoming them as though their arrival had made his day, be brought them two long glasses of cool, golden beer. 

"I MUST say I've never enjoyed the bulb fields more," declared Linda. . 

"Have you seen them many times before? " Mike asked. 

"Um-hm-with Daddy, but it's a very different matter going round with him. He hunts out the growers and they have long technical discussions, and I get so bored that. I find it tremendously hard to appreciate the beauty of the scene." She paused. "You know something, Mike? -I think the extent of one's appreciation of anything lovely depends an awful lot on who you are with." 

Their eyes met for an instant and both knew they were falling in love. He longed to kiss her there and then, and doubtless if he had he would have given great pleasure to the quiet, benign-looking Dutch folk who were sitting about the tavern, the men smoking long clay pipes and drinking beer, the women nibbling at "sticks" of raw salted herring. 

HE thought it would attract too much attention, and so he contented himself with slipping an arm round her slender waist and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Presently. the landlord returned to their table and asked them if they would like lunch. He said he could not offer anything very fancy but he would be delighted to serve them with raw fillet of steak, finely chopped and garnished with yolks of eggs, anchovies, onions and garlic. Although it sounded odd, after tasting it very cautiously, they both agreed that it was delicious.

This dish was followed by a plate of cream pastries. Taking one, Linda remarked, "I'm afraid I'm going to get a terrible frown from the weighing-machine when I next step on to it, but I really couldn't care less today." 

"I suppose as a model you have to watch your weight very carefully," he said. 

"Oh yes. In modelling one is only as good as one's next show. There can't be many other professions in which one can tumble down the ladder quicker. And one of the most frequent causes of disaster is overweight." 

"How long "'are you going to go on modelling for? " 

"I don't know-I haven't really thought. But I'll certainly give it up when I get married." 

"Why?"

"Because I think a wife's job is to look after her home and husband and children. And another thing, quite possibly I'll marry a man who isn't wealthy; I think it's very bad for a wife to be earning three or four thousand (about $8430 to $11240) a year and her husband not nearly as much." 

"But you'll be sorry to give it up?" 

She gave a slight shrug. "I don't suppose I'll mind when the time comes. After all, there will be something much more important taking its place." 

Once again, he found it almost impossible to believe that she was in the slightest way connected with a smuggling ring or any other criminal activity. Her whole outlook struck him as being so delightfully straightforward, so alive to fundamental values. Of course, no doubt she did sometimes "forget" to declare garments bought abroad, but from her own admission it seemed that her contraband was usually detected. In any case, he knew from his own experience behind the Customs' bench that beautiful, innocent-eyed girls are always suspect-they are much more likely to have their cases searched than any other type of traveller. He had already formed the opinion that if by any conceivable chance Linda were involved in large-scale smuggling, she played her part before the contraband left the country of its origin. 

Now, acutely aware that he was falling in love again, he sought to dispel his suspicions completely by asking her some leading questions. 

"I gather you have talked a lot about your work to Barbara," he said. "She was saying that you do sometimes meet some very strange characters ? ., 

"Oh yes, plenty of them," she answered. . 

"Unpleasant ones?" 

"Oh, now and again. But doesn't one meet dubious types in every job-whether one's working in a shop, an office or wherever you like? " 

"Yes," he agreed. "I was thinking of really unpleasant characters-crooks and big-time smugglers." 

"I have met a few. We met some the other night, didn't we?" Her face became serious. "It happens that I know a person who has a lot to do with those sort of people, but I don't want to talk about him now. He can be rather a bore!" Her hand slid into his beneath the table. "You have made me think of someone I'd like to forget today. You and I are having such a lovely time together." 

"We are," he said, wishing with all his heart that he hadn't started asking her questions, "and we're going to have a fine afternoon too." 

"Let's look round Haarlem," she suggested. "It's such a beautiful, friendly old town." 

WHEN they left the tavern, she first took him to the cathedral, whose architecture was simply expressive of the deeply religious character of the Dutch. Its interior had a peaceful, happy atmosphere which caused Mike and Linda to linger there longer than they intended. An unseen organist was playing Bach, and for a while they sat in a pew, allowing the glorious music to flood through their beings. It awoke an identical response in both of them; they felt drawn together, conscious of a wonderful sense of detachment from the world outside, as though they had temporarily escaped from the bonds of time into the eternal where life is always alive and vibrant and vivid. 

When late in the afternoon, Mike and Linda entered the cool interior of Haarlem museum, they felt they had stepped right into the middle of a scene by a Dutch painter. At first, they had the building to themselves. In the Renaissance-room, where the evening sunlight pouring through the tall, mullioned windows was mirrored in the dark mahogany tables and the pewter and brass, seeming to give an almost three-dimensional effect to the masterpieces round the walls, they turned to each other of one accord and he took her in his arms. 

She raised her face to his and for a moment looked at him shyly, intimately. Then as his lips met hers, she closed her eyes, delighting in the clean, fresh vigour of his kiss. 

The sound of voices echoing down the tiled corridor outside made them break apart. A short while later they left, for the time being not wanting anyone's company except each other's. 

Hand in hand they walked beside a canal, talking little as the evening shadows deepened and lights were turned on one by one in the ancient canal-side houses. But as they made their way back into the town, their pensive, happy mood gradually gave way to one of greater exuberancy. Light-hearted, inconsequential conversation sprang up between them and they felt a sudden need for gaiety and brightness, as though the song in their hearts was almost too deep and poignant to be maintained for long, and must now be transposed into a minor key. 

And so they had their evening meal in a cafe patronized by art students. It was a long, low cellar, the walls of which were covered with murals depicting the bulb fields in a somewhat futuristic style. Here the beer was served in tall pots and the food consisted mainly of inexpensive egg dishes and salads. An accordionist played popular tunes and the students sang rousing choruses, whilst waitresses in colourful national costumes bustled amongst the red-topped tables. 

But despite the modernity of the scene, it was nevertheless traditional in its bright cleanliness, its vibrancy, its happiness. One felt that Brueghel would have been glad to paint it, and perhaps his attention might have been caught by the two visitors from overseas who sat at a corner table; the tall, dark young  man in shirt-sleeves whose arm rested lightly round the shoulders of a beautiful, gently-smiling girl, her hair still crowned by a circlet of spring flowers. 

"Oh, Mike, it's been such a happy, happy day! " she murmured.

" We will have some more together. What are you doing tomorrow? " 

"Nothing much." 

" And the day after? " 

"On Monday I'm going away for a couple of days with Mr. Van Loman and Eddie to do some sailing." 

"Oh hell!" 

"I'll be back on Wednesday." 

"That doesn't leave us many days together. " 

"No, I suppose it doesn't," she said regretfully. "And in a week's time there's the annual Flower Parade. There's also a rehearsal on Friday." 

"Are you taking part in it then? " 

She nodded. "I'm going to be Pandora in Pandora's Box." 

"Can't I be in the box too? " 

"You'd hate it, Mike!" she answered, laughing. "You'd have to dress up, and I don't think fancy-dress would suit you." 

"Why not?" 

"Because you strike me as being a person who should always be himself-simple and natural and not trying to act a part." 

"I'm quite a good actor-I used to go in for amateur dramatics at school." 

" Did you?" She gave him a fond smile. "What else did you do at school?" . . 

"Box and play cricket." 

"I'd have thought that was much more your line. You know, you've told me awfully little about yourself." 

" Have I? I'm sorry." 

"Barbara's told me a bit."She hesitated. "I gather you have had an unhappy affair?" 

"Yes," he answered, "but that's forgotten now." 

"It hasn't affected you deeply? I mean it hasn't made you cynical  about women in general?"  

"I don't know. Would you say "it has?" 

"Not from what I've seen of you." 

SHE paused. "But just now and again, when you are looking at me, I must admit there is a funny expression in your eyes. It's almost as though you were. . . well, suspicious of me in some way." 

"I'm not suspicious any longer." 

"But were you ? " 

"Perhaps just a little." He was determined not to spoil the day by inviting any more revelations; if she had got entangled in some criminal mesh, he would learn about it gradually, and somehow he would free her from it. And so he said, "I still can't understand why anyone as perfect as you can be bothered with a very ordinary chap like me." 

"I'm far from perfect and I'd never describe a man who's given me such a wonderful day as being 'ordinary.' '' She rested her head on his shoulder and looked up at him. "I'll tell you one of the things I like about you, Mike. You're so observant and appreciative of what you see. In fact, sometimes you strike me as being almost a trained observer-like an artist." 

"Well, I'm not one," he assured her with a grin. 

"You may be in your own way. Tell me about your job-I seem to remember Barbara saying you work at London Airport. Is that right?" 

"Yes, quite right," he answered uneasily, hoping that he would be spared the necessity of telling her a pack of lies. 

"What are you-an aircraft fitter? " 

"No. I have to carry out inspections." 

" Oh, are you one of those men who make sure that planes are air-worthy? Now I can understand why you seem to notice so much!" 

He cut short the conversation by asking a passing waitress for the bill. It was a great temptation to tell Linda what his profession really was, but he felt that might be a fatal thing to do. If she were being blackmailed into taking part in smuggling schemes, the knowledge that he was a Customs Officer might make her frightened to give him any further information; she would probably close up like a clam and any chance of helping her would be lost. 

At about nine o'clock, they caught a train back to Amsterdam and had a seat to themselves at the end of the corridor compartment. Linda now felt deliciously tired, and leaning against Mike, she closed her eyes. But the journey was only a short one, and it seemed to her that she had been sleeping for a very few minutes when she was awakened by a kiss on her forehead. She kissed him back. 

"Thank you for the nicest day I have ever spent in Holland," she said softly. 

BACK in the hotel, they were crossing the foyer when they encountered Mr. Van Loman who had just come out of the lounge. 

"Hallo! Have you had a pleasant day?" he asked, beaming at them. 

" Yes thank you," answered Linda. "The bulb fields were lovely." 

"Before you go home you, must visit the growers with whom I'm associated. It's only a small concern but they go in for a lot of hybridization and experimental growing. I think you might find it quite interesting." 

"I'm sure we would. And so would my father." 

" Then I suggest you come in about a week's time. The tulips which they specialize in should be at their best then-particularly the Rainbow Parrots; they have a very fine strain which comes into bloom a little later than others you may have seen." 

Mike said, "The only thing is that next Saturday is the Flower Parade." 

"Ah yes, that is so! Then let's make it Monday week and I'll have a word with my associates to let them know we will be coming." 

"Thank you so much," smiled Linda. 

Mr. Van Loman turned to Mike. 

" There's a matter which I feel I must mention to you, Mr. Foster. About an hour ago I happened to see your charming sister come in. She looked so happy. But when she collected the key of her room from the desk, she was handed a letter by the hall porter. I could not help noticing how distressed she was when she read it. I do hope she hasn't received bad news."

Mike looked worried. "Thanks for mentioning it. I'll go up at once and see what the trouble is." He glanced at Linda. "Like to come too?"

"If you want me to," she answered. 

They said good-night to Mr. Van Loman and went up in the lift.

"It's so like Mr. Van Loman to mention a thing like that," said Linda. "He's so kindhearted that he just hates to see anyone unhappy." 

Entering Barbara's room, they found her lying face downward on the bed crying her eyes out. Linda tried to comfort her while Mike quickly scanned the crumpled letter lying on the floor. He had already guessed that it was from Auntie Grace in reply to Barbara's letter which she had written after Madame Rissac had accepted her as a pupil, but he had not supposed that it could be quite so unpleasant as in fact it was. Not only had their aunt turned down flat Barbara's request to be allowed to go to the modelling school in Paris, but she had added a number of remarks which for sheer vitriolic unpleasantness were hard to beat. First she accused the child of the basest ingratitude in wanting to leave her, and then came stringent criticisms of her character and appearance. She ended with a series of abuses about Mike. 

Mike's face was white with anger as he passed the letter to Linda. After glancing through it, she realized it was up to her to deal with this situation-at the moment, Mike was too angry to be able to give the gentle reassurance and comfort which Barbara needed. 

"LISTEN, Mike," she said, her hand on his shoulder, "this is one of those times when a big sister is needed rather than a big brother. Will you trust me to cope? " 

He nodded and left the room. 

"Have you read what she says?" Barbara asked chokingly as Linda sat down on the bed and put an arm round her. 

"I have;" she answered. "I thought it horrid, but you must try not to worry about it."

"It was the things she said about Mike which upset me more than anything. " 

"We both know they are not true, so what does it matter? Do you remember telling me a few days ago that he was a wonderful person?"

"Yes,"

 "Well, I've found that out for myself today." 

Barbara looked up at her in silence for a moment, then a smile showed itself through her tears. 

"Have you had a lovely time together? " 

"It's 'been quite perfect." 

"Oh, it's marvellous to hear you say that! I-I feel selfish being miserable now-in fact, I'm beginning not to be any more. You see, I've wanted so much for you to like each other." 

"He's everything which you said he was, and I think that when he's got over his very natural anger with your aunt he will be able to see some way of putting things right." 

"Yes," Barbara whispered, "I'm sure he will." 

Linda gently stroked her hair. 

" What about bed now?" 

Barbara got up slowly and smoothed her crumpled skirt. 

"Will you stay and talk while I get into my pyjamas?" 

"Of course I will. I'll tell you a bout some of the things we saw to-day." 

A little while later, Linda drew the curtains and turned off the bedside lamp. Moonlight streamed into the room, picking out the crumpled whiteness of the letter on the floor. Her fingers closed round it and she tore it into small pieces which she dropped into the wastepaper basket. Then she came back to the bed and kissed Barbara goodnight. 

Barbara gave a little sigh of contentment. But a few moments after the door closed behind Linda, she began to cry softly into her pillow. 

It would be in a sence inaccurate to describe an Amsterdam Sunday as quiet, for the countless church bells ring from the early hours of the morning until late in the evening. But the atmosphere is very peaceful. 

Mike, Barbara and Linda spent a leisurely morning together. They got up late, attended a morning service, and then took a pre-lunch stroll along the banks of the Amstel. 

On the way back to the hotel, Mike brought up the problem of Auntie Grace's letter, which so far had not been mentioned today. 

"I can't understand why she's so anxious to keep a hold on you," he said to Barbara, "After all, she's never shown the slightest affection for either of us." 

Linda remarked, "Perhaps it is that she just likes someone around to bully." 

"She likes that all right," he agreed, " but it could be there's a little more to it. I think what I'll do is to write to the solicitors who have got our parents' wills. There are several questions I would like to ask them, then we'll know where we are." 

"But Auntie Grace is my legal guardian, isn't she?" asked Barbara. 

"That's something I'm not Slife about. Uncle Bill was-there"s no doubt about that--but I don't know whether she was specifically mentioned in Mother's will. I did see the will ,ecno but I can't remember now. If she isn't mentioned then I should imagine she can do nothing, to stop you going to Paris." 

"I never want to see her again!" Barbara spoke between clenched teeth. 

"You will have to do that," he told her, " but it needn't be for long." 

"Will you write to-day?" she asked him. 

"I will." he promised. 

He spent the afternoon in the hotel writing-room for he had other letters to write besides the one to the solicitors. Equally important was his official application to be trained for the Investigation Branch when he returned to duty. He did not think he stood much of a chance-the required standard was so tremendously high and ereht were many applicants. However at least his name might be put on a waiting-list. 

When he had finished his letters, he walked on to the balcony outside the writing-room, and for some minutes stood watching the calm, peaceful scene of the sunlit canal and the beautiful old houses with their tulip-filled window-boxes on the opposite bank. 

Lighting a cigarette; he allowed his thoughts to wander off into day-dreams of the future. He pictured to himself a life of bliss, married to Linda and owning a trim little house at Kew, say, or Richmond. His working hours would be spent doing a job which fascinated him- hunting smugglers -and his spare time would be occupied by an adoring wife and children, carpentry and gardening. Until this trip to Holland, he had never taken much interest in horticulture, but now he thought it would be fun to grow lots of bulbs and plan out a tiny garden. 

HIS cigarette was nearly finished when he heard voices on the balcony above the one on which he stood. They drifted down to him faintly but he recognized them as belonging to Mr. Van Loman and Eddie. He strained his ears to catch the gist of their conversation and what he heard stimulated all his professional curiosity in the activities of the Bond Street jeweller.

"I shall return to London a week- on Tuesday," Mr. Van Loman was saying, "and you had better come with me."

"But I've got to get the stuff to New York," objected Eddie. "I was under the impression that Operation Rainbow was going to cover both trips." 

"I've been thinking it would be best to confine it to the London run." said his father. "After all, the profit on that alone will be enormous. How many stones were you proposing to take to America?"

"Twenty of Schulman's last batch." 

"So! I think it is too many for one time." 

"They will be perfectly safe." 

"You've tried out a method of securing them? " 

"Their security is assured." 

"Nevertheless, I would prefer that you first helped me with the Swiss bunch to London." 

"Will they be ready by a week tomorrow? " 

"Oh yes. there is no doubt at all. Some are ready now, and our friend has promised the rest in a few days' time." 

There was a long pause and Mike thought they had probably gone inside. Then he heard Eddie say, "Father, I still think I should go to New York." 

"Well, there is plenty of time for us to argue the point." 

"I can't understand why you don't use the girl more." Eddie sounded irritated. "Don't you trust her? ., 

" I think so." Mr. Van Loman's tone was reflective. "But just to make sure, I'm going to give her a little present." 

Mike heard on more, for at this moment some other people came out on to the balcony and their voices completely drowned the ones above. As he walked through the writing-room and into the foyer to post his letters he felt quite sick with apprehension. From what he had heard, it seemed possible that the Van Lomans were planning to smuggle jewellery of some kind to London and probably diamonds to New York, and it also seemed likely that Linda knew perfectly well what they were up to. 

Yet despite all the suspicious facts which were piling up against her, he still argued with himself that she could be-and most probably was-completely innocent. 

MIKE'S heart was in conflict with his head, and it was his heart which won the day. However, a certain amount of disquietude persisted at the back of his mind. 

That evening, Mr. Cartright went out to dinner with a friend who was a bulb exporter, and so Linda joined Mike and Barbara at their table. After dinner, Rafael and Alicia Montenegro came in for coffee and stayed talking until about ten o'clock. 

After the Montenegros had left and Barbara had gone to bed, Mike and Linda had a short time to themselves. They went into the lounge and sat down. 

"You look worried this evening, Mike," she said gently. "Is anything the matter? " 

"Not really," he answered. "It's just that I'm sorry you are going off to-morrow-that's all." 

"I'm sorry too, but I can't offend Mr. Van Loman by putting him off. He is so sweet." 

"What time will you be back on Wednesday? " 

"I think he said about lunchtime." 

"Then we can do something together in the afternoon ? " 

"If you like." 

"That's a date then." 

The only other person in the lounge got up to go. Mike waited until he was alone with Linda, and then he put his arm round her shoulder, drawing her close against him. Her soft hair brushed his cheek and their fingers interlaced. 

"Mike, I want to ask you something." Her voice sounded a little strained. 

"Well go ahead," he said gently.

"Are you quite sure that you have got over your broken engagement yet?" 

"I've already told you I have-I said so yesterday." 

"I wonder," she murmured.

"Why, what's the trouble? "

"Just that I've felt you have been different this evening-I've seen that hard, suspicious look in your eyes. It only shows for, a moment and then it's gone." 

He laughed a little uneasily. 

"I'm sorry but I think you must be imagining it." 

"Perhaps I am, but . . . well, it frightens me a little. It makes me feel you don't altogether trust me." Her fingers tightened round his. "Mike, I'm not going to run away from you," 

"And I won't let you down. If you should at any time find yourself in a really sticky situation you can count on me; I'll give you all the help I can."

She laughed softly. "I can't imagine an occasion like that arising. But it's nice to know that if it did you would get me out of it." 

The innocence in her voice gave him the reassurance which he needed. As he kissed her, all his suspicions were for the time being blotted out by the wonder and enchantment of her love for him.

(Another instalment next week.) 

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(?about)

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The average price of a new home then was $12750 about 2.77 times the yearly average wage of $4600. Which was about 2.14 times the price of a new car $2150. Today?