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Show f o) 1 ( f? n 0) n p Oa Lm m Ik 11 1 5l I I 1 By BEil OllIES LOflUHniS SYNOPSIS Barbara Sentry, seeking to sober up her escort. Johnnie Boyd, on the way home from a party, slaps him, and attracts at-tracts the attention of a policeman whom the boy knocks down. As heTl 1 Lm;kPr,eSSOr Brace of Hvard comes to the rescue and drives Barbara f.Tf; ."the way they see Barbara's father driving from the direction of his ?eluehV. 12:,f' ,b. when he ts home he tells his wife It Is 11:15 and that he's been playing bridge at the club. Next day Sentry reports his office has been robbed and a Miss Wines, former temporary tem-porary employee, killed. The evening papers pa-pers luridly confirm the story, and Sentry Sen-try takes It hard. Mary, elder daughter "lohve w,ith Neil Ray. young interne at the hospital where she works, goes off to dinner at Gus Loran's, Sentry's partner part-ner with Mrs. Loran's brother, Jimmy Endle Mr. and Mrs. Sentry call on old Mrs. Sentry, and Barbara, alone receives re-ceives Dan Fisher, reporter, who advises her not to talk. Phil Sentry, son at Yale, is disturbed at the possible implications and suspicion of Miss Wines' absence from her rooms for three days during August. He gees home to help. Sentry is arrested and booked for murder. Dan Fisher explains the evidence against him that the robbery was a fake, the safe opened by one who knew the combination, combina-tion, changed since Miss Wines' employment employ-ment there that a back door key a duplicate of Sentry's, was found in the girl's purse, and that Sentry, too. had been away those three days in August Brace calls, and backs up Barbara in her denial that Sentry could have done it because of the discrepancy of time between be-tween the slaying and their seeing Sentry Sen-try on the road. Phil, showing the police po-lice over the house, finds his strong box forced open and his gun, which only his father knew of, gone. Meanwhile, the police find the stolen money burned in the furnace. Mrs. Sentry sees her husband, hus-band, who swears his innocence, and tells her he had known of the robbery and murder the night before, but failed to call the police, and came home at 12:30. Phil and his mother are doubtful of Sentry's innocence, but keep silent. CHAPTER V 11 vVhile they were at lunch, a little later, Dean Hare telephoned to say that Inspector Irons had decided to postone his interrogations, so for the afternoon they were free. Mary was to see Neil Ray when he went off duty; and as they finished lunch, Linda came to propose that Phi go for a drive with her. "I have to go out to those mills in Norwood to get some homespun," she explained, "and I hate to go alone." Phil looked to his mother for consent. con-sent. "Go along," she said. "Barbara "Bar-bara and grandmother will be here." So Phil went, and found a measure of peace and forgetfulness in being thus with Linda. But when she brought him home, in late afternoon, after-noon, he was reluctant to face them all; instead of going directly indoors, in-doors, he walked around the house. He heard voices by the muddy stream beyond the pergola and went to look down over the bank. Policemen Police-men were there in boats with things like hinged rakes, dragging up debris from the bottom of the stream. One of them saw him and spoke quietly to the others, and they all looked up, silently. Phil went back toward the house, trembling. He found his mother alone. "Mary's dining with Neil," she explained, ex-plained, "and I sent Barbara in to stay overnight with grandmother. Professor Brace called, drove them in." She smiled reassuringly. "So we'll have dinner together, you and I" "Professor Brace?" he echoed. He remembered warily that the Dis-1 Dis-1 trict Attorney had questioned Professor Pro-fessor Brace, but he did not say so. "Funny for him to hang around." "I suppose he's naturally interested. interest-ed. The scientific mind, you know." Her tone was edged. "We're under his microscope, like insects." "He introduced himself to the reporters," re-porters," Phil recalled. "Almost as if he wanted publicity." "I see you don't like him either." "Oh I like him all right." Dinner was served and they went in; and since they might here be overheard they spoke of other things. Phil talked at random, steadily, fighting down his thoughts: that his father had tried to burn money in the furnace, that his father fa-ther was a murderer! He must not let his mother guess his dreadful certainty. And she, as intent to hide her thoughts from Phil as he was to conceal his from her, helped him keep talk alive; but when they left the table and went into the living-room living-room and were alone, silence crushed them; and Phil noisily lighted light-ed a fire, and Mrs Sentry telephoned tele-phoned old Mrs. Sentry's apartment to say good night to Barbara. She reported to Phil, when she left the phone, that Professor Brace had stayed to dinner with them. "I suppose he's taking notes," she reflected. "Like that German tutor at the foot of the table in 'War and Peace.' Remember? There's just a paragraph about him, but he's perfectly per-fectly clear cut, a complete character char-acter in your mind afterward. Phil did not remember. "But speaking of Russians," he suggested, suggest-ed, "how about some Russian Bank?" So they played till Mrs Sentry said at last that they might as well go to bed. The house seemed very big and empty when they went upstairs, and parted for the night. Later, Mrs. Sentry, still awake heard Mary come in; but the girl did not come upstairs, so her mother moth-er went down, a dressing-Sown over her night garments. She found Mao in the living-room, standing by the hearth, her lips bitten red, her hands twisting. And Mrs. Sentry tried in an awkward awk-ward way they were not a demonstrative demon-strative family to take the girl in her arms, but Mary said, "Don't, please!" So Mrs. Sentry sat down. "Shall we talk for a while?" she suggested. suggest-ed. "Or are you sleepy?" "Sleepy!" The word was fierce with scorn. "How is Neil?" "Very sensiblel" Mrs. Sentry said, "1 knew he would help you." "Oh help? Of course!" . "He didn't, then?" Mary said: "Don't worry about Neil! We were practically engaged, but I told him tonight we must forget for-get that. That after all this, I was hopelessly disqualified to be a missionary's mis-sionary's wife, even in China!" Mrs. Sentry waited. Mary said in a flat voice, passionless as ashes, "He agreed with me." After a while her mother spoke, On the homeward way Barbara returned with them they heard newsboys calling late editions, and one bawling youngster jumped on the running-board when they stopped for a traffic light to thrust a paper before their eyes. A headline, head-line, inches high. "Sentry Indicted." Mrs. Sentry closed her eyes, and the light changed, and the car leaped ahead. At home a knot of people scattered scat-tered from the entrance to the drive, gaped at them as they drove in. Phil saw that one woman had broken off a branch of rhododendron, rhododen-dron, and he thought bitterly: For a souvenir! Indoors, Barbara asked in a shaken shak-en whisper, "Mother, what does 'indicted' 'in-dicted' mean?" Mrs. Sentry said, "Hush, darling!" dar-ling!" And she asked, "Do you know where Mary is, whether she'll be home to dinner?" She felt cold as iron. Barbara shook her head. "I think Mary's rotten!" Phil said angrily. "We've got to stick together!" to-gether!" "She's pretty unhappy, Phil," j "Good Night! I'm Going to Bed." tentatively. "I wish I could hold you in my lap, dear, as I did when you were little and were hurt." "No, thanks. I'm not little any more." The girl stood before the hearth, rigid and still, her eyes fixed, her hands clasped behind her. Mrs. Sentry thought of a martyr at the stake surrounded by flames, burned without being consumed. She began to talk, of casual, healing things. i "Some people called this afternoon," after-noon," she said. "Mrs. Harry Murr, bulging with questions she wanted to ask and didn't quite dare. And Mrs. Furness brought Miss Glen. You could see her memorizing every ev-ery stick of furniture, every picture on the walls, to use in her next novel " The girl cried: "Mother, don't! How can you stand it?" "And that young professor, Mr. Brace, dropped in," Mrs. Sentry persisted. "He took mother and Barbara to town." "You're driving me crazy!" Mrs. sentry sighed wearily, surrendering. sur-rendering. "I'm sorry about JJeil, Mary. Yet if he couldn't stand the gaff,' isn't it a good thing to know?" "No it isn't!" Mary cried. "What does that matter, if you love a man? What does it matter if he's weak, a sniveling coward, a drunkard, a thief?" Her eyes widened. "Even a murderer," she whispered. "You go on loving him just the same." And she cried: "Oh, why is love so deep a part of women, mother? Why can't we be reasonable, sensible!" sensi-ble!" She spat the word. "Like men!" And suddenly, seeing the older old-er woman's face, she stopped, said then curtly: "Good night! I'm going to bed." The still room ached when she was gone. When Mrs. Sentry came downstairs down-stairs in the morning, Mary had departed, de-parted, leaving no message; and the older woman felt a deep concern con-cern that was half despair. But she hid it from Phil. They stayed at home, together and yet each one alone. Phil wondered whether his mother knew that the Grand Jury might act today; he thought of a group of strange men, in a secret room somewhere, hearing hear-ing evidence against his father, and trembled as though he were ill. He thought his mother might suggest that they go again to see his father, fa-ther, and knew that he himself had no strength to face the older man and to pretend he did not know what he did know. But his mother did not make the suggestion; and after lunch they drove in to see old Mrs Sentry, and heard newsboys shouting the name of Sentry, and Mrs. Sentry shivered at last and said with a weary smile: I think we'd belter stay at hen-.e hereafter. Phil." Mrs. Sentry explained. "Neil Ray broke their engagement." "Engagement? I didn't know they were engaged." "They would have been, in time. Mary loved him." "I'd like to knock his block off!" Mrs. Sentry said: "Don't be a child, PhiL I'm afraid you'll find a good many people take the same attitude. at-titude. Now get ready for dinner, both of you." She thought at dinner, while Phil and Barbara talked to her, bravely cheerful, that the world of which they were a part must be just now fuD of buzzing tongues. Her own tongue had never been under a curb. From the security of an assured position she had spoken as she chose, rigorous toward those who transgressed her code. Now others would have their turn. She tried to imagine what people would say, what their attitude would be. Would they speak to her of Arthur? Protesting Pro-testing they believed him innocent, professing friendship and sympathy while they watched her with sly, avidly av-idly curious eyes? She shuddered, and she thought: I might take the children abroad, live the rest of our lives abroad, perhaps assume another an-other name. But someone who knew them would find them out; there would be whispering, whispering She tried to tell herself: He did not do it! Of course, he had lied to her about the time, that night, knowing know-ing she was too sleepy to recognize his lie; but naturally he would lie, after that dreadful moment at the office when he found the dead girl. Found her dead! Mrs. Sentry clung to that thought stubbornly, insisting to herself that Arthur did find the girl dead as he had told her, refusing refus-ing to remember the panic in his eyes, refusing to remember his tone when he reiterated his assertion that Miss Wines was dead before he found her. Found her dead, he said; and was afraid, and left her and came skulking home. And Mrs. Sentry hoped suddenly that he would not tell the District Attorney that story of chance discovery dis-covery and craven flight. Anything was better than that shame. She thought that if he did not speak they might find some woman any woman to swear that he had been with her during the hours when the murder occurred. That crime at least would be robust, masculine; not weakly cowardly . . . But of course anything, any story true or false that could be made credible, was better than to see him convicted of murder. If that happened, hap-pened, she could never lift her head again. The pride she lived by was worth fighting for. Even with lies! Linda came in as they finished dinner, and Mrs. Sentry welcomed her, and proposed a rubber of bridge. She clung to Linda's friendly friend-ly loyalty. Linda agreed; but Barbara Bar-bara would not: "I'm sorry," she said, trying to smile. "I'm afraid this is my evening for letting go." Her tones were tremulously brave. "If you don't mind, I think I'll slip off by myself and cry for a while." She darted away. Phil would have followed her, but Linda said softly: "No, Phil. Let her go!" They heard Barbara's door close, upstairs. Mrs. Sentry rose and they went into the living-room, and talk ran somehow, and a little after nine, a car grated on the drive. It was Mary. She came in without with-out laying aside her hat. Mrs. Sentry Sen-try realized that the car had not gone away, and she was cold with fear of what Mary would say. The girl was flushed. Mrs. Sentry saw, incredulously, that she had been drinking. When Mary spoke, her tones were louder than usual, harsh, defiant. She said to Linda, curtly. "This is a family council, Linda." She added carelessly, "Oh, stay if you like, of course." Phil protested: "Hey, Mary, don't talk like that! What's the matter with you?" He exclaimed, "You're drunk!" She laughed derisively. "If I'm not it's not for lack of trying." And she asked Linda: "Going? All ashore that's going ashore! The ship's sinking!" Linda said quietly: "No, Mary. I'll stay." Mrs. Sentry felt desperately that she must speak, must do something. Her heart was full of a great compassion; com-passion; but old habit of repression repres-sion bound her tongue. "Mary, you're not yourself!" she said sternly. stern-ly. "Myself?" Mary laughed in a shrill way. "Myself? Who am I? Who are you? Who are any of us?" And she said furiously: "Oh, I thought I knew! I thought we were so secure, and settled, and decent, and good." Her laughter rang maddeningly. mad-deningly. "Decent? Good? No decent, de-cent, good people will ever speak to us now." "Mary!" (TO BE CONTINUED) |