I hadn't visited Daniel at police headquarters on Mulberry Street since I had been brought there as a suspect, and I still felt a chill of alarm as I went up those stone steps and along that echoing tiled corridor. Even though reason told me that I was safe on the other side of the Atlantic and that my past could never catch up with me, I still found it hard to breathe.
Daniel's office was at the far end of the hallway and had a front wall and door of frosted glass. I could see the silhouette of a figure seated at his desk. So I was in luck. He wasn't out on a case and he might even have time to take a dinner break with me. I tapped and pushed open the door, all in one movement.
“You'll never guess who I have just seen in Gramercy
Park, Dan “ I began, then stopped short in confusion.
“Oh, I beg your pardon. I expected to find Captain Sullivan here.”
The figure at Daniel's desk was an exquisite young woman in a pink silk dress with a large cameo at her throat. A luxuriant coil of dark hair was piled high over an elfin face and was topped with one of those new little hats, with just a hint of pink veil, perched saucily to the front. Her big blue eyes opened even wider in surprise as she looked at me.
“He is due back momentarily, so I am given to understand.” She spoke in a soft, girlish, American-accented voice. “Although with policemen one never knows, does one?” She gave a dimpled smile. “If you have an urgent message to give him, miss, you could write it down and I will make sure he gets it.” She was staring at me, trying to sum me up. “You're not a witness to a crime, are you? I always adore hearing about crimes. I should dearly love to be a witness, but nothing ever seems to happen in White Plains.”
“No, I'm not a witness. Merely a friend dropping in to give Daniel a message.”
“Oh, well, if you're a friend, then you'll have heard all about me.”
“I'm afraid not. You are?”
“Daniel's fiancee, Arabella Norton. He hasn't told you about me? Naughty boy.” A simpering laugh. “Well, I suppose he doesn't go blabbing about his personal life to everyone he meets in New York.”
The world stood still. She was still smiling. “I'm up in town for shopping and theater, so I thought I'd pop in and surprise him.”
“Oh, I imagine you'll do that, all right.” I fought to keep my face composed. “So if you'll excuse me, Miss Norton, I won't bother you any further. What I have to say can wait for another time.”
“Oh, but do leave a message. I'll promise he gets it.”
“No message,” I said and walked out with steady gait and my head held high.
It was only when I got outside the building that I had to hold on to the railings and remind myself to breathe. Then I started to walk, faster and faster, striding out with no plan and no direction in mind. All I wanted to do was to walk far enough and fast enough to make the hollow pain in my heart disappear. It was approaching the dinner hour and the streets were full of factory girls leaving work, housewives buying last-minute purchases from street carts, children dodging underfoot as they played wild games.
It all passed me by in a blur. I was not even aware of my surroundings or how hot I was until I reached Battery Park, at the tip of Manhattan Island, and felt the cooling breeze from the harbor in my face. Quite a stiff wind had blown up this evening, accompanied by a heavy bank of clouds on the eastern horizon promising rain by nightfall. I stood there letting the wind blow into my face, feeling the chill on my sweat-drenched bodice.
I was so angry I thought I would explode. How could he? How dare he? All this time he had led me on and let me believe that I mattered to him, when he was committed to another woman and knew there could be no future for us. All those times he had taken me in his arms and looked into my eyes with love had been a sham, mere playacting. I was not sure with whom I was angrier— with Daniel or myself. He was a man, after all, and men were out to get all they could from women. I, on the other hand, had been a naive fool. When I thought about it, I realized he had never made me any promises, never even hinted that we might be married someday. In fact, when marriage had been mentioned, he had skirted around the subject or hastily changed it. So he hadn't lied to me— just never told me the truth.
And I? For once in my life I had kept quiet, waiting patiently for him to choose the right moment for a proposal, as any good girl should. If only I had been my normal impatient self I would have demanded to know his intentions right away and I would have known where I stood.