When she
started for Monte Carlo she had no idea where to go after leaving Rose,
as she determined to do next day; but it was as if a voice came to her
on the wind, saying: "Why not stay at the Chateau Lontana?"
Mary caught at the suggestion. She had felt vaguely guilty in deciding
that she could not grant Hannaford's wish, and live in his villa. It had
seemed impossible to be happy there. She had thought that tragic
memories would haunt the house and echo through the rooms, though
strangers who knew nothing of Hannaford's story might find it a pleasant
place. But now she was not asking or expecting happiness for the
present. She wanted a refuge, where she might think and wait quietly,
out of gossip's way--a place whence she could write Vanno: "When you
come you will find me here."
As she said these words in her mind they took a different form. "_If_
you come," she began; then stopped hastily and changed the "if" to
"when." Vanno would come. She had done nothing because of which she
deserved to lose him, and she would not lose him. Somehow, everything
must be made to come right. She would think of a way.
In front of the big, balconied building where the Winters lived Jacques
stopped and put Mary's small trunk and dressing-bag inside the door,
while his little white horse stood tranquilly among passing motors. She
asked him to call later at the Villa Mirasole for her other luggage,
which she had already packed and labelled, and take it to the cloak-room
at Monte Carlo railway station, where it could be called for.
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