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Louise said uneasily, ‘She—I think she cursed us Oh, Harry, I wish she hadn’t’
IV
It seemed to Louise that her new houre of one crazy old woman When she went out in the car, when she rode, when she walked out with the dogs, there was always the sa Crouched down on herself, a battered hat over wisps of iron-grey hair, and the slowof imprecations
Louise caht—the old wos easier Mrs Murgatroyd never actually came to the house, nor did she use definite threats, nor offer violence Her squatting figure reates To appeal to the police would have been useless and, in any case, Harry Laxton was averse to that course of action It would, he said, arouse local sympathy for the old brute He took the matter more easily than Louise did
‘Don’t worry about it, darling She’ll get tired of this silly cursing business Probably she’s only trying it on’
‘She isn’t, Harry She—she hates us! I can feel it She—she’s ill-wishing us’
‘She’s not a witch, darling, although she may look like one! Don’t be morbid about it all’
Louise was silent Now that the first excite in was over, she felt curiously lonely and at a loose end She had been used to life in London and the Riviera She had no knowledge of or taste for English country life She was ignorant of gardening, except for the final act of ‘doing the flowers’ She did not really care for dogs She was bored by such neighbours as shebest, sometimes with Harry, sometimes, when he was busy about the estate, by herself She hacked through the woods and lanes, enjoying the easy paces of the beautiful horse that Harry had bought for her Yet even Prince Hal, most sensitive of chestnut steeds, ont to shy and snort as he carried his ure of a malevolent old woman
One day Louise took her courage in both hands She was out walking She had passed Mrs Murgatroyd, pretending not to notice her, but suddenly she swerved back and went right up to her She said, a little breathlessly, ‘What is it? What’s the matter? What do you want?’
The old woypsy face, isps of iron-grey hair, and bleared, suspicious eyes Louise wondered if she drank
She spoke in a whining and yet threatening voice ‘What do I want, you ask? What, indeed! That which has been took away froirl and woman, for near on forty years It was a black deed to turnto you and him!’
Louise said, ‘You’ve got a very nice cottage and—’
She broke off The old woood of that to me? It’s my own place I want and my own fire as I sat beside all the you there will be no happiness for you in your new fine house It’s the black sorroill be upon you! Sorrow and death and my curse May your fair face rot’
Louise turned away and broke into a little stuet away froo away
At the moment, such a solution seemed easy to her But Harry’s utter incomprehension took her back He exclaimed, ‘Leave here? Sell the house? Because of a crazy old woman’s threats? You must be mad’
‘No, I’ will happen’
Harry Laxton said griatroyd to me I’ll settle her!’
V
A friendship had sprung up between Clarice Vane and young Mrs Laxton The two girls were h dissimilar both in character and in tastes In Clarice’s company, Louise found reassurance Clarice was so self-reliant, so sure of herself Louise atroyd and her threats, but Clarice see
‘It’s so stupid, that sort of thing,’ she said ‘And really very annoying for you’
‘You know, Clarice, I—I feel quite frightened soives the most awful jumps’
‘Nonsense, you et you down She’ll soon tire of it’
She was silent for a minute or two Clarice said, ‘What’s the matter?’
Louise paused for a minute, then her answer ca here The woods and this house, and the awful silence at night, and the queer noise owls ’
‘The people What people?’
‘The people in the village Those prying, gossiping old maids’
Clarice said sharply, ‘What have they been saying?’
‘I don’t know Nothing particular But they’ve got nasty minds When you’ve talked to them you feel you wouldn’t trust anybody—not anybody at all’
Clarice said harshly, ‘Forget theossip And most of the muck they talk they just invent’
Louise said, ‘I e’d never come here But Harry adores it so’ Her voice softened