“Sa-a-ay, girl,” drawled the man's voice, with a familiar little cackling laugh in it, “sa-a-ay, girl, the policeman on th' beat's got me spotted6 for a suspicious character. I been hoofin' it up an' down this block like a distracted mamma waitin' for her daughter t' come home from a boat ride.”
“Blackie! It's only you!”
“Thanks, flatterer,” simpered Blackie, coming to the edge of the walk as I stepped from the automobile8. “Was you expectin' the landlady9?”
“I don't know just whom I expected. I—I'm nervous, I think, and you startled me. Dr. Von Gerhard was taken back for a moment, weren't you, Doctor?”
Von Gerhard laughed ruefully. “Frankly, yes. It is not early. And visitors at this hour—”
“What in the world is it, Blackie?” I put in. “Don't tell me that Norberg has been seized with one of his fiendish inspirations at this time of night.”
Blackie struck a match and held it for an instant so that the flare10 of it illuminated11 his face as he lighted his cigarette. There was no laughter in the deep-set black eyes.
“What is it Blackie?” I asked again. The horror of what Von Gerhard had told me made the prospect12 of any lesser13 trial a welcome relief.
“I got t' talk to you for a minute. P'raps Von Gerhard 'd better hear it, too. I telephoned you an hour ago. Tried to get you out to the bay. Waited here ever since. Got a parlor14, or somethin', where a guy can talk?”
I led the way indoors. The first floor seemed deserted15. The bare, unfriendly boarding-house parlor was unoccupied, and one dim gas jet did duty as illumination.
“Bring in the set pieces,” muttered Blackie, as he turned two more gas jets flaring16 high. “This parlor just yells for a funeral.”
Von Gerhard was frowning. “Mrs. Orme is not well,” he began. “She has had a shock—some startling news concerning—”
“Her husband?” inquired Blackie, coolly. I started up with a cry. “How could you know?”
A look of relief came into Blackie's face. “That helps a little. Now listen, kid. An' w'en I get through, remember I'm there with the little helpin' mitt17. Have a cigarette, Doc?”
“No,” said Von Gerhard, shortly.
Blackie's strange black eyes were fastened on my face, and I saw an expression of pity in their depths as he began to talk.
“I was up at the Press Club to-night. Dropped in for a minute or two, like I always do on the rounds. The place sounded kind of still when I come up the steps, and I wondered where all the boys was. Looked into the billiard room—nothin' doin'. Poked18 my head in at the writin' room—same. Ambled19 into the readin' room—empty. Well, I steered20 for the dining room, an' there was the bunch. An' just as I come in they give a roar, and I started to investigate. Up against the fireplace, with one hand in his pocket, and the other hanging careless like on the mantel, stood a man—stranger t' me. He was talkin' kind of low, and quick, bitin' off his words like a Englishman. An' the boys, they was starin' with their eyes, an' their mouths, and forgettin' t' smoke, an' lettin' their pipes an' cigars go dead in their hands, while he talked. Talk! Sa-a-ay, girl, that guy, he could talk the leads right out of a ruled, locked form. I didn't catch his name. Tall, thin, unearthly lookin' chap, with the whitest teeth you ever saw, an' eyes—well, his eyes was somethin' like a lighted pipe with a little fine ash over the red, just waitin' for a sudden pull t' make it glow.”
“Peter!” I moaned, and buried my face in my hands. Von Gerhard put a quick hand on my arm. But I shook it off. “I'm not going to faint,” I said, through set teeth. “I'm not going to do anything silly. I want to think. I want to... Go on, Blackie.”
“Just a minute,” interrupted Von Gerhard. “Does he know where Mrs. Orme is living?”
“I'm coming t' that,” returned Blackie, tranquilly21. “Though for Dawn's sake I'll say right here he don't know. I told him later, that she was takin' a vacation up at her folks' in Michigan.”
“Thank God!” I breathed.
“Wore a New York Press Club button, this guy did. I asked one of the boys standin' on the outer edge of the circle what the fellow's name was, but he only says: 'Shut up Black! An' listen. He's seen every darn thing in the world.' Well, I listened. He wasn't braggin'. He wasn't talkin' big. He was just talkin'. Seems like he'd been war correspondent in the Boer war, and the Spanish-American, an' Gawd knows where. He spoke22 low, not usin' any big words, either, an' I thought his eyes looked somethin' like those of the Black Cat up on the mantel just over his head—you know what I mean, when the electric lights is turned on in-inside{sic} the ugly thing. Well, every time he showed signs of stoppin', one of the boys would up with a question, and start him goin' again. He knew everybody, an' everything, an' everywhere. All of a sudden one of the boys points to the Roosevelt signature on the wall—the one he scrawled23 up there along with all the other celebrities24 first time he was entertained by the Press Club boys. Well this guy, he looked at the name for a minute. 'Roosevelt?' he says, slow. 'Oh, yes. Seems t' me I've heard of him.' Well, at that the boys yelled. Thought it was a good joke, seein' that Ted7 had been smeared25 all over the first page of everything for years. But kid, I seen th' look in that man's eyes when he said it, and he wasn't jokin', girl. An' it came t' me, all of a sudden, that all the things he'd been talkin' about had happened almost ten years back. After he'd made that break about Roosevelt he kind of shut up, and strolled over to the piano and began t' play. You know that bum26 old piano, with half a dozen dead keys, and no tune27?”
I looked up for a moment. “He could make you think that it was a concert grand, couldn't he? He hasn't forgotten even that?”
“Forgotten? Girl, I don't know what his accomplishments28 was when you knew him, but if he was any more fascinatin' than he is now, then I'm glad I didn't know him. He could charm the pay envelope away from a reporter that was Saturday broke. Somethin' seemed t' urge me t' go up t' him an' say: 'Have a game of billiards29?'
“'Don't care if I do,' says he, and swung his long legs off the piano stool and we made for the billiard room, with the whole gang after us. Sa-a-ay, girl, I'm a modest violet, I am, but I don't mind mentionin' that the general opinion up at the club is that I'm a little wizard with the cue. Well, w'en he got through with me I looked like little sister when big brother is tryin' t' teach her how to hold the cue in her fingers. He just sent them balls wherever he thought they'd look pretty. I bet if he'd held up his thumb and finger an' said, 'jump through this!' them balls would of jumped.”
Von Gerhard took a couple of quick steps in Blackie's direction. His eyes were blue steel.
“Is this then necessary?” he asked. “All this leads to what? Has not Mrs. Orme suffered enough, that she should undergo this idle chatter30? It is sufficient that she knows this—this man is here. It is a time for action, not for words.”
“Action's comin' later, Doc,” drawled Blackie, looking impish. “Monologuin' ain't my specialty31. I gener'ly let the other gink talk. You never can learn nothin' by talkin'. But I got somethin' t' say t' Dawn here. Now, in case you're bored the least bit, w'y don't hesitate one minnit t'—”
“Na, you are quite right, and I was hasty,” said Von Gerhard, and his eyes, with the kindly32 gleam in them, smiled down upon the little man. “It is only that both you and I are over-anxious to be of assistance to this unhappy lady. Well, we shall see. You talked with this man at the Press Club?”
“He talked. I listened.”
“That would be Peter's way,” I said, bitterly. “How he used to love to hold forth33, and how I grew to long for blessed silence—for fewer words, and more of that reserve which means strength!”
“All this time,” continued Blackie, “I didn't know his name. When we'd finished our game of billiards he hung up his cue, and then he turned around like lightning, and faced the boys that were standing34 around with their hands in their pockets. He had a odd little smile on his face—a smile with no fun it, if you know what I mean. Guess you do, maybe, if you've seen it.
“'Boys,' says he, smilin' that twisted kind of smile, 'boys, I'm lookin' for a job. I'm not much of a talker, an' I'm only a amateur at music, and my game of billiards is ragged35. But there's one thing I can do, fellows, from abc up to xyz, and that's write. I can write, boys, in a way to make your pet little political scribe sound like a high school paper. I don't promise to stick. As soon as I get on my feet again I'm going back to New York. But not just yet. Meanwhile, I'm going to the highest bidder36.'
“Well, you know since Merkle left us we haven't had a day when we wasn't scooped37 on some political guff. 'I guess we can use you—some place,' I says, tryin' not t' look too anxious. If your ideas on salary can take a slump38 be tween New York and Milwaukee. Our salaries around here is more what is elegantly known as a stipend39. What's your name, Bo?'
“'Name?' says he, smiling again, 'Maybe it'll be familiar t' you. That is, it will if my wife is usin' it. Orme's my name—Peter Orme. Know a lady of that name? Good.'
“I hadn't said I did, but those eyes of his had seen the look on my face.
“'Friends in New York told me she was here,' he says. 'Where is she now? Got her address?' he says.
“'She expectin' you?' I asked.
“'N-not exactly,' he says, with that crooked40 grin.
“'Thought not,' I answered, before I knew what I was sayin'. 'She's up north with her folks on a vacation.'
“'The devil she is!' he says. 'Well, in that case can you let me have ten until Monday?'”
Blackie came over to me as I sat cowering41 in my chair. He patted my shoulder with one lean brown hand. “Now kid, you dig, see? Beat it. Go home for a week. I'll fix it up with Norberg. No tellin' what a guy like that's goin' t' do. Send your brother-in-law down here if you want to make it a family affair, and between us, we'll see this thing through.”
I looked up at Von Gerhard. He was nodding approval. It all seemed so easy, so temptingly easy. To run away! Not to face him until I was safe in the shelter of Norah's arms! I stood up, resolve lending me new strength and courage.
“I am going. I know it isn't brave, but I can't be brave any longer. I'm too tired—too old—”
I grasped the hand of each of those men who had stood by me so staunchly in the year that was past. The words of thanks that I had on my lips ended in dry, helpless sobs42. And because Blackie and Von Gerhard looked so pathetically concerned and so unhappy in my unhappiness my sobs changed to hysterical43 laughter, in which the two men joined, after one moment's bewildered staring.
So it was that we did not hear the front door slam, or the sound of footsteps in the hall. Our overstrained nerves found relief in laughter, so that Peter Orme, a lean, ominous44 figure in the doorway45 looked in upon a merry scene.
I was the first to see him. And at the sight of the emaciated46 figure, with its hollow cheeks and its sunken eyes all terror and hatred47 left me, and I felt only a great pity for this wreck48 of manhood. Slowly I went up to him there in the doorway.
“Well, Peter?” I said.
“Well, Dawn old girl,” said he “you're looking wonderfully fit. Grass widowhood seems to agree with you, eh?”
And I knew then that my dread dream had come true.
Peter advanced into the room with his old easy grace of manner. His eyes glowed as he looked at Blackie. Then he laughed, showing his even, white teeth. “Why, you little liar5!” he said, in his crisp, clear English. “I've a notion to thwack you. What d' you mean by telling me my wife's gone? You're not sweet on her yourself, eh?”
Von Gerhard stifled an exclamation49, and Orme turned quickly in his direction. “Who are you?” he asked. “Still another admirer? Jolly time you were having when I interrupted.” He stared at Von Gerhard deliberately50 and coolly. A little frown of dislike came into his face. “You're a doctor, aren't you? I knew it. I can tell by the hands, and the eyes, and the skin, and the smell. Lived with 'em for ten years, damn them! Dawn, tell these fellows they're excused, will you? And by the way, you don't seem very happy to see me?”
I went up to him then, and laid my hand on his arm. “Peter, you don't understand. These two gentlemen have been all that is kind to me. I am happy to know that you are well again. Surely you do not expect me to be joyful51 at seeing you. All that pretense52 was left out of our lives long before your—illness. It hasn't been all roses for me since then, Peter. I've worked until I wanted to die with weariness. You know what this newspaper game is for a woman. It doesn't grow easier as she grows older and tireder.”
“Oh, cut out the melodrama53, Dawn,” sneered54 Peter. “Have either of you fellows the makin's about you? Thanks. I'm famished55 for a smoke.”
The worrying words of ten years ago rose automatically to my lips. “Aren't you smoking too much, Peter?” The tone was that of a harassed56 wife.
Peter stared. Then he laughed his short, mirthless little laugh. “By Jove! Dawn, I believe you're as much my wife now as you were ten years ago. I always said, you know, that you would have become a first-class nagger57 if you hadn't had such a keen sense of humor. That saved you.” He turned his mocking eyes to Von Gerhard. “Doesn't it beat the devil, how these good women stick to a man, once they're married! There's a certain dog-like devotion about it that's touching58.”
There was a dreadful little silence. For the first time in my knowledge of him I saw a hot, painful red dyeing Blackie's sallow face. His eyes had a menace in their depths. Then, very quietly, Von Gerhard stepped forward and stopped directly before me.
“Dawn,” he said, very softly and gently, “I retract59 my statement of an hour ago. If you will give me another chance to do as you asked me, I shall thank God for it all my life. There is no degradation60 in that. To live with this man—that is degradation. And I say you shall not suffer it.”
I looked up into his face, and it had never seemed so dear to me. “The time for that is past,” I said, my tone as calm and even as his own. “A man like you cannot burden himself with a derelict like me—mast gone, sails gone, water-logged, drifting. Five years from now you'll thank me for what I am saying now. My place is with this other wreck—tossed about by wind and weather until we both go down together.” There came a sharp, insistent61 ring at the door-bell. No answering sound came from the regions above stairs. The ringing sounded again, louder than before.
“I'll be the Buttons,” said Blackie, and disappeared into the hallway.
“Oh, yes, I've heard about you,” came to our ears a moment later, in a high, clear voice—a dear, beloved voice that sent me flying to the door in an agony of hope.
“Norah!” I cried, “Norah! Norah! Norah!” And as her blessed arms closed about me the tears that had been denied me before came in a torrent62 of joy.
“There, there!” murmured she, patting my shoulder with those comforting mother-pats. “What's all this about? And why didn't somebody meet me? I telegraphed. You didn't get it? Well, I forgive you. Howdy-do, Peter? I suppose you are Peter. I hope you haven't been acting63 devilish again. That seems to be your specialty. Now don't smile that Mephistophelian smile at me. It doesn't frighten me. Von Gerhard, take him down to his hotel. I'm dying for my kimono and bed. And this child is trembling like a race-horse. Now run along, all of you. Things that look greenery-yallery at night always turn pink in the morning. Great Heavens! There's somebody calling down from the second-floor landing. It sounds like a landlady. Run, Dawn, and tell her your perfectly64 respectable sister has come. Peter! Von Gerhard! Mr. Blackie! Shoo!”
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1
curbing
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| n.边石，边石的材料v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的现在分词 ) | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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intake
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| n.吸入，纳入；进气口，入口 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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mitt
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| n.棒球手套，拳击手套，无指手套；vt.铐住，握手 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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celebrities
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| n.（尤指娱乐界的）名人( celebrity的名词复数 )；名流；名声；名誉 | |
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smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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bum
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| n.臀部；流浪汉，乞丐；vt.乞求，乞讨 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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specialty
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| n.(speciality)特性，特质；专业，专长 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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bidder
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| n.(拍卖时的)出价人，报价人，投标人 | |
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scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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38
slump
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| n.暴跌，意气消沉，（土地）下沉；vi.猛然掉落，坍塌，大幅度下跌 | |
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stipend
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| n.薪贴；奖学金；养老金 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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43
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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45
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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46
emaciated
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| adj.衰弱的，消瘦的 | |
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47
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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48
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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49
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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50
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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51
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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52
pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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53
melodrama
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| n.音乐剧；情节剧 | |
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54
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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56
harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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57
nagger
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| n.爱唠叨的人，泼妇 | |
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58
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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59
retract
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| vt.缩回，撤回收回，取消 | |
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60
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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61
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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62
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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63
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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64
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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