local chief of police, who had whisked the unfortunate Grady off to the hospital.
"Anne? Are you still there? I hope I haven't upset you, but I felt that you had a right to know. I had hoped I could see you again .. ." Harris sounded almost diffident.
Webb was with Carol. "Comforting" her. What happened between Webb and Tanya?
Anne wondered. Had he merely needed Anne as an alibi, when he'd come looking for her ... after Tanya ... Stop it! Don't think that way! Don't give way! There was more to be faced before she could escape-as she would, and must.
First the light, polite words to Harris Phelps. She sent her love to Carol, no message for Webb, who neither deserved nor needed any. And reassured Harris that they might just run into each other in Europe sometime. Hadn't she mentioned that she planned to be leaving for France next week?
Words. Smoke screen to hide emotions. Harris couldn't see the paleness of her face nor sense the churning mixture of rage and humiliation that made her pulse pound in her temples.
But when she put down the telephone, Anne felt strangely calm. "Empty" was a word she might think, but wouldn't let herself feel. When the phone rang again almost immediately, she could feel detachedly proud of herself because there wasn't a
'tremor in her voice when she answered it.
"Your father will be in his study, Miss Anne, when it's convenient for you to see him."
Mrs. Preakness had a cool, aseptic voice that matched the appearance of the woman herself. She never seemed to grow any older-and yet, as far back as Anne could remember, she had always been there, part of the rigidly controlled order of life at Deepwood. Deep freeze. Her mother, so long ago, whispering "How I dislike that-that creature! She's a robot."
Well, I'm not! I'll make him understand that. Deliberately, Anne gave herself time to comb her hair and put on some makeup. She was better off now that she had somes pecific goal to battle for, something tangible to face. And no, she wouldn't think about Webb now. Maybe later, as a learning experience. And Webb and Carol could play their cheating, teasing games with each other, tearing each other apart, for all she cared. She wasn't playing any longer.
"That bastard! He's dangerous-he was going to kill me, the sick, rotten ... does either of you understand that? Do you know what I've been through? I want him put away, I tell you-how can I feel safe again after this?"
Carol Cochran's emerald-green eyes were bright with fury and incipient hysteria, and her face was taut white except for the crimson lower lip she kept biting.
She looked from Harris Phelps to Webb, who lit a cigarette and handed it to her silently. Damn Webb! It had always infuriated her that she could never really tell what Webb was thinking. She was used to being sure of her men, but she never had been of Webb.
Harris said smoothly, "You don't have to worry about Grady; haven't I already assured you of that? He'll be in the hospital for a long time, and we'll get an injunction against him to see he doesn't try to come near you again. And don't forget, Bad Blood opens on Broadway in two weeks. It's going to establish you as a dramatic actress, Carol. You mustn't let yourself look back. And I promise you, there'll be no publicity arising out of this nasty incident. The chief of police has been remarkably understanding and cooperative, and we're all free to go as soon as we can be ready to leave."
He saw the way Carol was watching Webb, and rose to leave them together with a mental shrug as his mind prepared the press releases he would put out. He'd already talked to Webb, who had as much at stake in the success of the playas anyone else.
An engagement, "leaked" to the press, was in order. It would put a stop to a lot of things, and explain Ted Grady's jealousy if the story of his attempt on Carol's life did get out.
H there were certain fleeting regrets in the back of his mind, Harris Phelps put them away for the moment. When
"Anne? Are you still there? I hope I haven't upset you, but I felt that you had a right to know. I had hoped I could see you again .. ." Harris sounded almost diffident.
Webb was with Carol. "Comforting" her. What happened between Webb and Tanya?
Anne wondered. Had he merely needed Anne as an alibi, when he'd come looking for her ... after Tanya ... Stop it! Don't think that way! Don't give way! There was more to be faced before she could escape-as she would, and must.
First the light, polite words to Harris Phelps. She sent her love to Carol, no message for Webb, who neither deserved nor needed any. And reassured Harris that they might just run into each other in Europe sometime. Hadn't she mentioned that she planned to be leaving for France next week?
Words. Smoke screen to hide emotions. Harris couldn't see the paleness of her face nor sense the churning mixture of rage and humiliation that made her pulse pound in her temples.
But when she put down the telephone, Anne felt strangely calm. "Empty" was a word she might think, but wouldn't let herself feel. When the phone rang again almost immediately, she could feel detachedly proud of herself because there wasn't a
'tremor in her voice when she answered it.
"Your father will be in his study, Miss Anne, when it's convenient for you to see him."
Mrs. Preakness had a cool, aseptic voice that matched the appearance of the woman herself. She never seemed to grow any older-and yet, as far back as Anne could remember, she had always been there, part of the rigidly controlled order of life at Deepwood. Deep freeze. Her mother, so long ago, whispering "How I dislike that-that creature! She's a robot."
Well, I'm not! I'll make him understand that. Deliberately, Anne gave herself time to comb her hair and put on some makeup. She was better off now that she had somes pecific goal to battle for, something tangible to face. And no, she wouldn't think about Webb now. Maybe later, as a learning experience. And Webb and Carol could play their cheating, teasing games with each other, tearing each other apart, for all she cared. She wasn't playing any longer.
"That bastard! He's dangerous-he was going to kill me, the sick, rotten ... does either of you understand that? Do you know what I've been through? I want him put away, I tell you-how can I feel safe again after this?"
Carol Cochran's emerald-green eyes were bright with fury and incipient hysteria, and her face was taut white except for the crimson lower lip she kept biting.
She looked from Harris Phelps to Webb, who lit a cigarette and handed it to her silently. Damn Webb! It had always infuriated her that she could never really tell what Webb was thinking. She was used to being sure of her men, but she never had been of Webb.
Harris said smoothly, "You don't have to worry about Grady; haven't I already assured you of that? He'll be in the hospital for a long time, and we'll get an injunction against him to see he doesn't try to come near you again. And don't forget, Bad Blood opens on Broadway in two weeks. It's going to establish you as a dramatic actress, Carol. You mustn't let yourself look back. And I promise you, there'll be no publicity arising out of this nasty incident. The chief of police has been remarkably understanding and cooperative, and we're all free to go as soon as we can be ready to leave."
He saw the way Carol was watching Webb, and rose to leave them together with a mental shrug as his mind prepared the press releases he would put out. He'd already talked to Webb, who had as much at stake in the success of the playas anyone else.
An engagement, "leaked" to the press, was in order. It would put a stop to a lot of things, and explain Ted Grady's jealousy if the story of his attempt on Carol's life did get out.
H there were certain fleeting regrets in the back of his mind, Harris Phelps put them away for the moment. When
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