Wolf in Man's Clothing: A Sarah Keate Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

knew that I would feel that he was giving up his chosen career because of me. I wouldn’t have let him do it, at least, I would have tried to stop him. But, you see, he didn’t know that at that time, and if he got the training he wanted he had to be unmarried. Then, and for that particular course of training, they wouldn’t take a married man. He didn’t know that until he applied for it. I didn’t know it until Mr. Brent wrote to me and told me.”
    I am not a profane woman. At the moment it was really a pity, for it left me simply nothing adequate to say. She nodded slowly, as if I’d asked her a question. “Yes,” she said. “That’s what I did. I believed him—Mr. Brent. How could I help it? He was obviously sincere about the whole thing. He wrote a letter that I wish I’d kept. I didn’t. I burned it. He said that I had wrecked Craig’s chosen career. He said that Craig now wanted to take training as a pilot and that I was—again—the obstacle. He said that he regretted everything he had said to me; he said that he was ready to accept our marriage—that is, our eventual marriage.” She stopped and took a long breath and I saw the picture complete.
    It was incredible, of course. Except that women like Drue can be just that incredible.
    “So you believed him. You agreed to let bygones be bygones. And you promised to divorce Craig, let him complete his training, and then remarry.”
    “That,” said Drue, “was the idea.”
    “Good heavens, Drue!”
    “I know. But then it seemed right. We had married so quickly, you see. Craig was giving up his job; and his father convinced me that the one thing he wanted was to get into the air force. Mr. Brent was—I can’t tell you how convincing he was. He asked me to forgive him for everything he’d said in anger. He said that he believed at last that Craig and I really loved each other. He said that Craig had set his heart upon becoming a pilot and getting into the army or the navy air force. He said Craig was deeply patriotic—and he is. I knew that. He said that what it—the divorce, I mean—really amounted to was merely a long engagement, and not very long at that. He made it seem so reasonable and so right. He said that Craig would never ask me for it himself and if I loved Craig I would get the divorce. And that as soon as the year of training was up we could remarry.”
    It was clear enough; still incredible, if one didn’t know Drue, but clear. What was also pretty clear was dirty work at the crossroads.
    “So you got the divorce?”
    “Yes. It took six weeks.”
    “And Craig got his training?”
    “Yes.”
    “What happened then?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “You don’t …”
    She shook her head and looked away from me. “He didn’t come back.”
    “But didn’t he understand why you did it? Didn’t you see each other and write and …”
    She shook her head again. “No. That is, I did write a few times. But he didn’t answer. The divorce went through very quietly and—and so quickly. And that was all.”
    After a moment, I said, “And you never tried to see him?”
    “No.” Her mouth moved a little wryly. “You see, I had my pride.”
    And it had cost her enough. Well, I didn’t say it. I pulled my uniform over my head and struggled through it and glanced at my watch. For all she’d said so much it had been only a few minutes.
    “But now,” she said unexpectedly, “it’s different. Pride doesn’t seem to matter so much. I’m older; I’m an adult now and a woman. I know what I want. I was—such a child then.”
    She was still a child. I didn’t say it, but took my cap and went to the mirror so as to adjust it to hide the white lock in my rather abundant auburn hair. “And now you’ve come back.”
    She sat for a moment in silence. In the mirror I watched a look of determination come slowly into her face. Finally, she said, “Yes, now I’ve come back. I had to.”
    Watching her instead of what I was doing, I jabbed a