Chapter 36 Chapter 20 (Part 2)

From the mouth of Cardinal Vittorio, he learned the whole story.At first, he was also very surprised, wondering why Justine didn't think of contacting him. "He came to me and asked me if I knew Dane was his son?" said the gentle voice as a gentle hand smoothed Natasha's blue-gray back. "What did you say?" "I said I guessed it. I couldn't tell him much. But, oh, his face! His face! I cried." "Of course, it hurt him. The last time I saw him, I thought he was not in good health, but he dismissed my suggestion to ask him to see a doctor."

"It was God's will. I think Ralph de Brissard was one of the most distressing men I ever knew. In death he would find what he couldn't find in this life peaceful." "The boy, Vittorio! What a tragedy." "Do you think so? I'd rather think it a good thing. I don't believe Dane thought death meant anything but welcome it. If our dear Lord can't wait any longer, can't wait It shouldn't come as a surprise that Dane was called to his side. I grieve, yes, but not for the boy, but for his mother, who must have suffered! I grieve for his sister, for his uncle, for his maternal grandfather. Father O'Neill lived in almost total purity of mind and spirit. Why wasn't death an entry to life for him? To us For others, the path is not so easy."

In a telex from his own embassy to London, Rainer did not allow himself to show his anger, heartbreak, and disappointment.The telegram simply read: "Must go back to Bonn but will go to London for the weekend. Why do you doubt my love and not tell me Rennes." On the desk in his Bonn office lay an express letter from Justine and a registered envelope, which his secretary told him was from Cardinal de Bricassart's lawyer in Rome. , He opened the envelope first, and learned that under the terms of Ralph de Bricassart's will, a new name had been added to the already huge list of directors.There's Michal & Co. and Drogheda in there.Agitated, yet curious, he understood that it was the cardinal showing him that in the final weighing he had found nothing to regret, that the prayers made during the war had borne fruit.He had placed the future interests of Meggie O'Neill and her family in Rainer's hands.Anyway, Rainer understood it this way, because the wording of the cardinal's will did not refer to anyone in particular.Could not venture to explain it otherwise.

He tossed the envelope into the immediate, general unclassified mail basket and opened Justine's letter, which began badly and lacked any polite titles. Thank you for your telex.You can't imagine how happy I am that we haven't been in touch for the last two or three weeks, because I hate having you around.All this time, when I think of you, what has been on my mind, thank goodness you don't know, you may find it difficult to understand, but I don't want you around me.There is nothing lovely in grief, Rain, nor can my pain be relieved by your witnessing it.Indeed, you will say, this proves how indifferent my love for you is.If I had loved you, I would have turned to you instinctively, hadn't I?However, I found myself turning around and walking away.

So I'd rather we put it back together once and for all, Rain, I have nothing for you, and I don't want anything from you.What this incident taught me is how much people mean to you if they've been around you for 26 years.I can't bear to go through something like this again.Do you remember what you said?It's either marriage or nothing.Oh, I choose to give up everything. My mother told me that the old cardinal died a few hours after I left Drogheda.really interesting.Ma was very sorry for his death.Not that she said anything, but I knew her.Why she and Dane and you like him so much puzzles me forever.I never liked him.I think his rhetoric is too flattering, an opinion I'm not going to change, just because he's dead.

That's it.Everything is written here.I mean what I say, Ryan.All I choose from you is rest.Take care of yourself. She signed it as usual, "Justine" boldly in bold black, and signed it with a new fiber-filled fountain pen.When he gave this pen to her.She had squealed with delight, and the thick, black thing had pleased her immensely. He didn't fold it up, put it in his wallet or burn it; he dealt with it like all the mail that didn't need an answer -- a scrap telegram that was thrown into the wastebasket as soon as it was read. in draft.Dane's death, he thought, had in effect killed Justine's aroused passion, and made her feel terribly unfortunate.It's not fair that he has waited so long.

He still flew to London for the weekend, but not to see her.Although he saw her.He had seen her on the stage, playing Desdemona, the venerable wife of the Moor.It was terrible.Whatever he couldn't do for her, the stage could do for her.That is my good girl!She poured all her emotions into the stage. ① Refers to Othello. -- Annotation She could only pour out her emotions on the stage because she was too young to play Hecuba.The stage literally provides a place for silence and oblivion.She could just tell herself that time heals all wounds -- and not believe it.She asked herself why it hurt her feelings so constantly.While Dane was alive, she didn't really think much about it except when she was with him.After he was an adult, their time together was limited, and their careers were almost opposites.But his death had left such a gap that she was desperate to fill it.

① In Greek mythology, the daughter of Demas, king of Fozingia, and the second wife of Priam, king of Muluoya.Here, Justine is referred to as Rainer's second wife. -- Annotation She changed her mind on impulse and did not go to Greece.This blow was what hurt her most.Because she thought of it so often, her grief was lingering for a long time.If only the circumstances of his death weren't so dire.She would probably recover quickly, but the events of those days remained in her mind like a nightmare, and she could not bear to lose Dane; To the unbelievable fact that Dane is dead and Dane will never come back.

She then thought she was guilty of not helping him adequately.Everyone but her thought he was perfect, without the troubles that other men had.But Justine knew that he had been plagued by doubts, that he had suffered from his own inadequacy, that he had been bewildered that people couldn't see his face and what was beyond his body.Poor Dane, he doesn't understand that people love him, the good thing that loves him, and now it's horrible to think it's too late to help him. She also grieves for her mother.If his death had made herself like this, what would her mother do?The thought made her cry out from her own memory and consciousness.And that picture of my uncles at his ordination in Rome, their chests proudly sticking out like doves with protruding breasts.This thing was the worst of all, it made the emptiness of her mother and the Droghedas vividly visible.

Be honest, Justine.Is this honesty the worst thing that can happen?Is there nothing more disturbing?She couldn't shake the thought of Rain, or the feeling that she had betrayed Dane.In order to fulfill her wish, she let Dane go to Greece alone. If she went with him, it might mean that he could survive.There is no other way to explain this.Because of her selfish focus on Rain, Dane died.It was too late to bring her brother back from the dead, but if Rain was never seen again.She can atone for certain sins.The price to pay for this is the grind of longing and loneliness. So weeks passed, and then months passed.One year, two years.Desdemona, Ophelia, Portia, Cleopatra.She is very satisfied with her starting point. From the outside, it seems that nothing devastating has happened in her personal life at all. She is very cautious about her every move and smile, and her dealings with people are quite normal.If anything, she was kinder than before, for people's misfortunes moved her as much as they did hers.But, as has been said, outwardly she was just the same Justine--flirtatious, energetic, haughty, detached, sarcastic.

①The heroine in Shakespeare's play "Hamlet". -- Annotation ②The heroine in Shakespeare's plays. -- Annotation ③The heroine in Shakespeare's play "Antony and Cleopatra". -- Annotation Twice she tried to go back home to Drogheda for a visit, and even bought a plane ticket the second time.But every time there was an impromptu, all-important reason why she couldn't go.But she knew in her heart that the real reason was a mixed feeling of guilt and cowardice.She just couldn't bear the tension of facing her mother; to do so would have meant the whole regrettable thing resurfaced, possibly in a storm of an injury she'd managed so far to avoid.The people of Drogheda, especially her mother, must have been reassured by the certainty that Justine was somehow safe and survived relatively unscathed.So, it's best to stay away from Drogheda.This is much better. Meggie stifled a long sigh and suppressed it.If her bones hadn't hurt so much, she might have saddled up and rode; but today the mere thought of riding hurts.Let's wait until her arthritis is not only as bad as it is now. She heard a car approaching, someone tapped lightly on the brass wool knocker on the front door, heard muffled voices, her mother's voice and footsteps.Not Justine, so what does it matter? "Meggie," Fee said at the entrance to the verandah. "There is a visitor. Can you come?" The visitor was a man of noble appearance who had just reached middle age.Though he might be younger than he looked, he was nothing like any man she had ever seen, except he had the ability and confidence that Ralph had once had.Owned it back then.But Ralph was gone. "Meggie, this is Mr Rainer Hasson," said Fee, standing beside her chair. "Oh!" Meggie exclaimed involuntarily, amazed at Ryan's appearance, the burly man in Justine's past letters.Then she remembered her manners. "Sit down, Mr. Hasson." He, too, looked straight at it, in astonishment. "You're nothing like Justine!" he said, rather dazedly. "No, not like." She sat down facing him. "I'll leave you alone with Mr. Hasson, who said he wanted to see you alone. Just ring the bell when you want tea," said Fee, and retreated. "Of course, you're Justine's German friend," said Meggie, bewildered. He took out his cigarette case. "is it okay?" "Please help yourself." "Would you like one, Mrs. O'Neill?" "Thanks, no. I don't smoke." She smoothed her dress. "You've come a long way from Germany, Mr Hasson. Are you busy in Australia?" He smiled, wondering what she would say once she found out that he was actually the master of Drogheda.But he wasn't going to tell her that he would rather all Droghedas think their interests were in the hands of the completely impersonal gentleman he had hired to act as an intermediary. "Sorry O'Neil Daqing, my name is Rainer," he said, pronouncing the name the way Justine pronounced it, while thinking humorously that this woman won't be called Of the name: She's not one to flaunt herself in front of strangers. "No, I don't have any official business in Australia, but I do have a good reason for coming. I want to see you." "See me?" she asked in surprise.Fortunately, in order to cover up the sudden panic, she immediately talked about another topic that was more secure. "My brother used to talk about you. You were so nice to them when they were in Rome for Dane's ordination." She said Dane's name without pathos, as if she used to say it. of. "I want you to stay a few days and see them." "Yes, Mrs. O'Neill." He replied without embarrassment. For Meggie, the meeting proved unexpectedly awkward.He was a stranger who claimed he had traveled 12,000 miles just to see her, and he was clearly in no hurry to explain why.She felt that she would eventually like him.But she found him a little aggressive.Perhaps, she had never seen him before, and that was why he gave her a little panic.At this time, a very novel idea flashed through her mind: her daughter was actually very easy to get along with people like Rainer Mollin Hasson!At last she thought of Justine as a companion. He thought, as she sat looking politely at him, that, in spite of her age and hair, she was still very pretty, just as Dane reminded one so strongly of a cardinal, and he Still surprised that she didn't look like Justine in the slightest.She must be lonely!Yet he felt in her not the sadness that Justine had; she had resigned herself to her fate. "How's Justine?" she asked. He shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know. I haven't seen her since before Dane died." She didn't look surprised. "I haven't seen her since Dane's funeral," she said with a sigh. "I hope she'll come home, but it looks like she's never coming back." He made a comforting sound, which she did not seem to hear, for she continued, but in a different voice, speaking less to him than to herself. "Over the years, Drogheda seems to have become a home for older people," she said. "We need young blood relatives, and Justine is the only young blood relative left." Pity moved him, and he leaned forward quickly, his eyes shining. "You speak of her as if she were a chattel," he said, his voice not harsh now. "I remind you, O'Neil Taiqing, she is not!" "What right do you have to decide what Justine is, or isn't?" she asked angrily. "After all, you said it yourself, you haven't seen Dane since before she died, and that was two years ago!" "Yes, you're quite right. That was exactly two years ago." He said more gently, realizing again what her life was like. "You got through it, Mrs. O'Neill." "Me?" she asked, trying to smile unnaturally, her eyes never leaving him. All of a sudden, he began to understand that the cardinal must have taken a fancy to her to love her so much.There was nothing like that in Justine.But then again.Nor was he Cardinal Ralph; he was looking for something different. "Yes, you totally took it," he repeated. She caught the implication right away and flinched. "How do you know about Dane and Ralph?" she asked uneasily. "I guessed it. Don't worry, Mrs. O'Neill, no one else knows. I guessed it because I knew the Cardinal long before I knew Dane. In Rome, everyone thinks the Cardinal is yours." Brother, Dane is his nephew. But, the first time I met Justine, he broke it." "Justine? It can't be Justine!" Meggie yelled. He reached out and took hold of her hand that was beating her knee wildly with excitement. "No, no, no, Mrs. O'Neill! Justine didn't realize it at all, and I hope she never does! Believe me; she slipped in by accident." "Are you sure?" "Yes, I swear." "So tell me in God's name, why doesn't she come home? Why doesn't she want to see me? Why doesn't she want to see my face?" Not just her words, but the anguish in her voice showed him what torture Justine's two years of absence had been to her mother.His own affairs had diminished in importance, and now he had a new task, alleviating Meggie's fears. "I'm to blame for that," he said firmly. "Justine was going to go to Greece with Dane; she was sure that if she had gone with him, he would still be alive now." "Nonsense!" said Meggie. "Exactly. Even though we know it's bullshit, Justine doesn't think so. It's up to you to make her understand that." "Me? You don't understand, Mr. Hasson. Justine hasn't heard a word from me all her life. At this stage, the influence I may have had is completely gone. She doesn't even want to look me in the face." ." Her voice was despondent, but not sad. "I feel like I fell into the same trap as my mother," she continued flatly. "Drogheda is my life... this house, these books... I'm needed here, there's still some purpose in life. People here trust me. You know, my kids never trust me, never." "That's not true, Mrs. O'Neill. If it were, Justine would have come home to you in peace of mind. You underestimate the nature of her love for you. When I say I'm responsible, it's because Justine stayed in London for my sake. But you think she's suffering for you, not me." Meggie straightened up. "She has no right to suffer for me. If she must suffer, let her suffer for herself, but not for me. Never for me!" "So you believed me when I said she wasn't thinking about Dane and the Cardinal at all?" Her demeanor changed, as if she remembered that there were other life-or-death matters and she ignored them. "Yes," she said. "I believe you." "I came to see you because Justine needed your help, and she couldn't ask for it," he said. "You have to convince her that she needs to confront the threats in her life again—not Drogheda's life, but her own life, which has nothing to do with Drogheda." He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and lit another cigarette. "Justine has put on the ascetic's horsehair shirt, but for the wrong reasons. If anyone can make her understand it, it is you. I warn you, however, that if you If she chooses to do this, she may never come back here." "The stage isn't enough for someone like Justine," he continued. "When she realizes that, the day comes when she'll have a choice between people—either her family and Drogheda, or me." He spoke with deep empathy. smiling at her. "However, ordinary people can't satisfy Justine, Mrs. O'Neill. If Justine chooses me, she can still perform on stage, which is a benefit that Drogheda cannot give her." At this time, he looked firmly at the She is like looking at an opponent. "I've come to ask you to make sure she chooses me. It may seem cruel to say this, but I need her more than you might need her." The stiff look returned to Meggie. "Drogheda wasn't such a bad choice," she retorted. "Hearing you put it that way, it's like life here is going to die, but you know, it's not like that at all, and she can stay on stage. Even if she's married to Bowie King--as all these years His grandfather was as I hoped - her children would be well cared for in his absence as well as the children of her marrying you. This is her home! She knows and understands this kind of life .If she chooses this life, she must know very well what it means, and can you say that the life you offer her has the same things?" "No," he said flatly. "But Justine is so curious, she'll be lonely on Drogheda." "You mean she wouldn't be happy here." "No, not quite. I don't doubt that if she chooses to come back here and marry this Boy King—by the way, who is this Boy King?" "Heir of the neighboring estate Bugira, an old childhood friend who would be more than a friend. His grandfather wished the marriage for the inheritance's sake; I wished the marriage because I thought it was Juss Ting needs." "I see. Well, if she comes back here and marries Boy Kim, she'll be happy. But happiness is a relative state. I don't believe she thinks Boy Kim I'm all right. Because, Mrs. O'Neill, Justine loves me, not Boy King." "Then her way of showing this kind of love is very strange," said Meggie, pulling the bell for tea. "Besides, Mr. Hasson, as I said, I think you overestimate my influence on her. She doesn't care what I say, let alone need my influence." "You can fool no one," he replied. "You know that a man can influence him, if you will. I ask you nothing but to consider what I say. You may take your time and take it easy. I am a patient man." Meggie smiled. "Then you are a rarity," she said. He didn't bring up the subject again, and neither did she.During his week-long stay, he behaved like any other guest, although Meggie felt that he was trying to show her what kind of man he was.Her brothers' affection for him was obvious; as soon as word of his arrival reached the ranch they all returned and stayed until his return to Germany. Fee liked him, too; her eyes were too bad to manage the books, but she was far from old and feeble.Last winter Mrs. Smith died in her peaceful sleep.Rather than trouble Minnie and Kate with one of the new housekeepers--both old and hale-hearted--it would be better to leave all the books to Meggie, who herself more or less filled in for Mrs. Smith. s position.No one in Drogheda understood the part of Rayner's life with Dane; it was Fee who saw it first, so she asked him to tell him about it.He gladly obliged, noting quickly that the people of Drogheda were willing to hear him talk about Dane, and took great pleasure in the novelty. Even though Meggie was outwardly courteous, she couldn't escape what Ray had said to her, and the choices he had offered her stuck with her.She'd given up on Justine's return long ago, and she was just trying to force him to admit that Justine would be happy if she did come back.And she was very grateful to him for one other thing: that he dispelled Justine's inexplicable fear that she had discovered the relationship between Dane and Ralph. As for her marriage to Ryan, Meggie didn't know what she was supposed to do to push Justine where she clearly didn't want to go.Maybe she didn't want to know?She liked Ryan very much at last, but his happiness could not be as important to her as her daughter's interests, the people of Drogheda, and Drogheda itself.The crucial question is: How important is Wren to Justine's future happiness?Even though he thought Justine loved him, Meggie couldn't recall her daughter saying anything that would indicate that Ryan meant to her as much as Ralph did to Meggie. "I think you'll see Justine sooner or later," she said to Meggie as he drove Ryan to the airport. "When you see her, I hope you don't mention this visit to Drogheda." "If you will," he said. "I just ask you to consider what I've said, and to take your time." But even after he made his request, he couldn't help feeling that Meggie got more out of his visit than he did, By the time mid-March came around, it had been two and a half years since Dane had died.Justine felt an overriding desire not to see the rows of tall buildings and the sluggish crowds.On this fine spring day, sunny and sunny, metropolitan London was suddenly unbearable.So she took the suburban train to the National Botanical Garden.Satisfyingly, it was a Tuesday and she could be in a place where she was alone.She had no work that night either, so it didn't matter if she got tired from walking the trails. Of course, she is very familiar with this park.London and its many flower beds are a delight to any Droghedan, but the National Botanic Gardens are in a class all their own.Earlier, from the end of March to October, this was the place she often visited, and every month there were different flora competing for beauty. Her favorite time is mid-March, a time when daffodils, rhododendrons, and trees of all kinds are in full bloom.There was a place she thought could be one of the loveliest little private retreats in the world.There she could sit on the wet ground, the only spectator, feasting on its beauty.As far as the eye can see, there is a stretch of daffodils, and a little closer, the dense bell-shaped yellow flowers fluttering in the wind on the trunk of a large apricot tree in full bloom are nodding slightly, while on the branches It was full of white flowers, and the branches were heavily bent; flawless and motionless, it was like a Japanese painting.Everything was silent.It is intolerable if someone passes by. Then her mind was drawn back from the incomparable beauty of the blossoming apricot tree in the sea of ​​yellow flowers; something far less beautiful came into view.None other than Rainer Mohring Hasson walked cautiously through the daffodil bushes, his ever-present German leather coat protecting his fat body in the cool breeze, the sun shining Glittering in his silvery white hair. "You'll chill your kidneys," he said, taking off his coat and unfolding it, lining up, on the floor so they could sit on it. "How do you know I'm here?" she asked, twisting and sitting on the hem of her brown satin dress. "Mrs. Kelly told me you were at the National Arboretum. The rest is easy. I just have to go till I find you." "I suppose you thought I should be happy to come back to you. Huh, huh?" "Are you so happy to come back to me?" "Still the same Ryan, answering a question with a question, no, I'm not happy to see you. I think I'd like to find a way to keep you crawling slowly on a hollow log forever." "It's hard for a good man to crawl forever on a hollow hon. How are you?" "very good!" "Have you licked your wounds enough?" "No" "Well, I guess that's to be expected. But I'm beginning to realize that once you leave me, you never let go of your pride and take the first step toward reconciliation. Yet, my dear girl, I'm very Smart, understand that pride can make a bedmate very lonely." "Don't try to kick things off to make room for yourself, Rain, because I'm warning you, I'm not going to give you a chance." "I don't want any chance from you right now." His blunt answer irritated her, but she relented and said, "Honestly?" "If I'm not telling the truth, do you think I can tolerate you leaving me for so long? After you leave me, you are like a moon in the water, a flower in the mirror; but, I still think you are a good friend, losing you Like losing a close friend." "Oh, Ryan, me too!" "Fine. So, admit I'm a friend?" "certainly." He lay on his back on his coat, put his hands behind his head, and smiled idly at her. "How old are you, 30? You look like an ugly schoolgirl in that dishonorable outfit. Justine, if you don't need me in your life for any other reason, of course you're going to do your personal demeanor Arbiter Luo." She laughed. "I admit, I did pay a little more attention to my appearance when I thought you might pop out of nowhere. But if I'm thirty, you have nothing to brag about, you At least 40 too. Doesn't seem like that much of a difference now, does it? You've lost weight. How are you, Rain?" "I'm not fat at all, but I have a big frame, so whenever I sit at the desk, I have to shrink my body, which prevents me from stretching my body." She slid down, turned around, lay on her belly, and brought her face close to his, smiling. "Oh, Ray, it's great to meet you! No one else can offer me a way to spend my money." "Poor Justine! You've gained a lot over the years, haven't you?" "Money?" She nodded. "Strange, the Cardinal may have bequeathed me all his fortune. Oh, half to me and half to Dane, but of course I am Dane's sole heir." Her face twisted involuntarily for a moment.She turned her head away, pretending to be looking at a daffodil in the sea of ​​flowers, until she could control her voice. "You know, Wren, I'd pay the price of losing my canine to learn what the cardinal's relationship to our family is. A friend, just that? More than that, in some mystical sense. But I just don't know what it is. I wish I knew." "No, you won't know." He stood up, holding out a hand. "Hey girl, where do you think people can see that the rift between a red-haired Australian actress and some member of the German cabinet has healed, I'll treat you to a meal. Since you ditched me , my playboy reputation has died down." "You're not going to get the fame, my friend. They don't call me a redheaded Australian actress anymore - over the years I've become a popular, stunningly beautiful, blond-haired British actress." , and thanks to my promiscuous Cleopatra. You're not going to tell me you don't know that the critics have called me the most foreign Cleopatra in years?" She raised her arms and hands in a hieroglyphic gesture. ① Abbreviation for Chrisanpetra. -- Annotation His eyes were shining. "Exotic?" he asked suspiciously. "Yes, exotic," she said firmly. Cardinal Vittorio was dead, so Wren was not visiting Rome so often now.Instead, he often comes to London.At first, Justine was very happy. She didn't see him express any more than a friendship relationship, but after a few months passed, his words and looks had nothing to do with their previous relationship, and she That mild indignation turned into a kind of uneasiness.It's not that she wants to get back into another relationship, she keeps telling herself that she's completely done with that sort of thing and doesn't need or want it anymore.She didn't allow the image of Ryan to keep swirling in her mind, so she managed to suppress the incident, only remembering it in her involuntary dreams. The first few months after Dane's death were horrific as she fought off her desire to go to Ray and want him to be with her, physically and mentally.She knew very well that as long as she let him be like this, he would be like this.However, she could not allow his face to cover Dane's.It was right to let him go, it was right to struggle to forget the last flickering desire to find him.As time passed, it seemed as if he would remain out of her life forever, and her body sank into an inexhaustible torpor, her mind chained, oblivious to the past. However, now that Ryan is back, things have become very difficult.She longed to ask him if he remembered another relationship--how could he forget?To herself, of course, she was done with such things, but it was pleasing to know that he had not forgotten them; Just fell in love with Justine. Fantastic daydreams.Lane was not the type to drain his mind and body on unwanted love affairs, and he had never expressed the slightest desire to restart that aspect of their lives.He wanted her to be a friend, to appreciate her as a friend.great!This is her wish too.It's just... Can he forget?No, it was impossible--but damned if he had forgotten! Justine's mind went so far that night that her Lady Macbeth was so different from the usual, with a striking cruelty, that she did not sleep very well after that, and the second One morning she received a letter from her mother, which filled her with a vague uneasiness. ①The heroine in Shakespeare's "Macbeth". -- Annotation Mom doesn't write letters very often now, it's a phenomenon of the two of them being separated for a long time, and all the letters they exchanged are dull and poor, but this letter is different, with a faint grievance of the elderly in the letter , a faint boredom that lurks like an iceberg in a word or two whose surface is so hollow.Justine didn't like the letter.old.Mom is old! What happened to Drogheda?Is Mom hiding some serious trouble?Is grandma sick?Is some uncle sick?I hope there is no such thing. Mom is sick?It had been three winters and summers since she had last seen them, and many things would happen in this year.Even though nothing happened to Justine O'Neill, she shouldn't assume that just because her own life is stagnant and dull, everyone else's is, too. That night was Justine's "done" night, there was only one performance of Macbeth, the day passed unbearably slow, and even the thought of eating with Ryan didn't bring the usual anticipation happy.This friendship, she said to herself as she hastily dressed in the orange dress that happened to be the one he hated most, was useless, unprofitable, stagnant, old-fashioned!Now if Ren doesn't like her like this, he has to bear with it a little bit.Then she let go of the trim of the tight bodice around her thin breasts, looked in the mirror, and laughed dejectedly.Oh, what a storm in a teacup!She acted like the kind of woman she despised.Maybe it was as simple as that, she was worn out, and she needed a break.Thank goodness the Lady Macbeth show is over!But what happened to mom? Wren was spending more and more time in London of late, and Justine was amazed at the ease with which he moved between Bonn and London.Needless to say, there must be a private jet to help, but it must be very tiring. "Why do you come to see me so often?" she asked suddenly. "Every gossip columnist in Europe thinks it's a big deal and, frankly, I sometimes wonder if you're using me as an excuse to visit London." "Indeed, I use you as a shield from time to time," he admitted calmly. "Actually, you're already a thorn in the side of some people. It doesn't do you any harm, though, because I'd rather stay with you." His dark eyes rested on her face thoughtfully. "You are silent to-night, my dear girl, is there anything to trouble you?" "No, really not." She played with her share of dessert and pushed it aside without taking a bite. "Just one stupid little thing, at least. Mom and I don't write every week now--for a long time, because we both see each other that we have nothing to talk about--but today I got her A very strange letter. Not a symbolic letter at all." His heart sank; Meggie had indeed considered the matter at her leisure, but instinct told him that this was the beginning of her action, but not the kind he liked.Meggie was beginning to play tricks on her daughter to get Drogheda back, to keep the dynasty alive. He stretched his arm from the table and took Justine's hand; she had, he thought, a grown-up beauty in spite of her awful dress.The thinness of her figure began to give her tit-like face the dignity it so needed, and gave her a vague grace.But how deep is her superficial maturity?That was all Justine's trouble; she didn't even ask to look at it.