It was a snowy winter's night when Brendon found her. He had just entered Pembroke Square, where he had lodgings6, when he heard a moan. Turning aside into the shadow of a wall he found a woman lying there, exhausted7 with cold and hunger. Always anxious to do good, he brought the poor creature to his rooms. Under the influence of food and wine and warmth she revived sufficiently8 to tell her story.
Her name, she stated, was Lola Velez. She was Spanish by birth, but had lived many years in Italy. Trained as a dancer, she had appeared at several of the best theaters with more or less success; but owing to her violent temper she had lost all chance of gaining a permanent position. But that Lola was rendered weak by privations she would not have told George the exact truth; but she confessed to her temper, to a certain episode connected with the stabbing of a woman of whom she was jealous, and to the many quarrels which had resulted in her being thrown out of employment. Finding Italy too hot to hold her, she had danced her way to Paris through various small towns, but here, as elsewhere, her temper proved her ruin. Then she had crossed the Channel, only to find that the market was overstocked with dancers. Unable to obtain employment, and having very little money, the unfortunate woman had fallen lower and lower, until she was reduced to begging in the streets. Finally she was turned out of her poor lodgings and had expended9 her last sixpence on food. It was shortly after this that Brendon found her.
He acted the part of a good Samaritan. Giving her a sovereign; he sent her away, restored in a measure to her right mind. The next day he saw the proprietor10 of a music-hall, with whom he was acquainted, and procured12 her an engagement in a ballet. It was a Dresden china piece, and the violent dancing of Lola was by no means suited to the Watteau costumes and stately dances of the powder and patches type. But the manager--a shrewd Jew called Kowlaski--saw in his new recruit the possibilities of success. He staged a ballet adapted from "The Bacchanals" of Euripides, and Lola danced the part of Agave, the mother of Pentheus, who is rendered insane by Bacchus.
Her success was immediate13. She enacted14 the part with a reckless abandon and a wild frenzy which thrilled the house. For the moment Lola was not herself, but the wild Theban Queen raging in the orgies of the Wine-god. All London came to see the frantic15 revels16 over which Lola presided, and night after night the little music-hall was filled to overflowing17. Lola made good use of her fame. She insisted that her salary should be raised, took modest lodgings in Bloomsbury, and, for a time, saved her money as a provision against old age and poverty. On the stage she was a dancing demon18, but at home no one could have been more modest. There was not a breath of scandal against her, in spite of Mrs. Ward's hint to Brendon.
This change in the formerly19 reckless woman was caused by love and gratitude20 to George. He had saved her from starvation, from death, he had procured her the engagement which had led to her success and present ease, and, figuratively speaking, she cast herself and all she had at his feet. Brendon found this excessive gratitude rather trying. Even then he was in love with Dorothy, whom he had met twice or thrice, and he was not disposed to accept the wild passion which Lola so freely offered to him. He tried to make her see reason, to look upon him as a friend and not as a lover, but in her insane way she resolutely21 refused to regard him as other than the man she intended to marry. In spite of her tempers and her wild career Lola had never erred22, and so far Brendon could well have made her his wife. But he did not love her, and hardly relished23 the idea of taking this wild creature to his heart and home.
Lola could not understand this coldness. She was accustomed to see men at her feet and to spurn24 them. Now that she was willing to surrender her liberty and to give her love, it exasperated25 her to think that the one man she had chosen would have none of her. As yet she knew nothing of Brendon's love for Dorothy, but with the instinct of a jealous woman guessed that some such passion engrossed26 the mind of the man she desired to marry. Again and again she deluged27 George with questions, which he always refused to answer, so she could learn nothing. Wearied of her persistency28, Brendon stopped away, and for a few weeks Lola did not see him. She followed him to his rooms, but found him absent. Then she saw his name in the papers connected with the Amelia Square tragedy, and wrote to him. He accepted her invitation and came to supper, less because of her desire than because he wished to speak to her about Bawdsey. The name of Lola Velez on the lips of the red man had startled Brendon almost as much as the fact that Bawdsey appeared to be acquainted with him. George could not recall meeting the man, and as he was not yet sufficiently famous for his name to be on the lips of the public, he wondered how it came about that Bawdsey knew of his existence. Anxious to know who the man was, he sent a note, marked private, to Miss Bull, and received a reply stating that Mr. Bawdsey was a new boarder, and, so far as she knew, a gentleman who lived on his income. But this did not satisfy Brendon, as it did not account for Bawdsey's knowledge. There remained Lola to question, and to Lola George went a night or two after the rescue of the red man. George made up his mind, and a strong mind it was, that he would not leave Lola until he knew positively29 how her name came to be mentioned by Bawdsey.
At eleven o'clock Lola was anxiously awaiting his arrival, and when he entered her little sitting-room30 she flew to kiss his hand, her usual extravagant31 form of greeting. George, like all Englishmen, hated scenes, and these Lola was always making. In vain had he tried to break her of these melodramatic tendencies. Her hot Southern blood would not cool, and she overwhelmed him with protestations of more than friendship. Of these he took no notice, and as it takes two to make love as well as to make a quarrel, Lola was yet far from gaining her heart's desire. This was a formal offer of marriage.
Having just returned from the music-hall, Lola wore a loose tea-gown of scarlet32 trimmed with glittering jet. It was a bizarre garment, but the vivid color suited her dark face and Southern looks. She was rather tall, very slender, and she moved with the dangerous grace of a pantheress. Her face was oval, sallow and thin, with ever-changing expressions. She was never two minutes the same, but her prevailing33 mood was one of fierce intensity34. The smoldering35 fire in her great black eyes blazed into passionate36 love as she swept forward to greet her visitor.
"My deliverer, my adored!" she cried in moderately good English, and kissed his hand with burning lips.
George snatched it away. "Don't, Lola. You know I hate that sort of thing!" And so saying he threw down his coat and hat on the sofa at the far end of the room.
Lola shrugged37 her shoulders and coiled up a tress of her black hair which had come loose. Putting it in its place, she glanced into the mirror over the fireplace to see that her comb was at the right angle. She wore a diamond comb in the Spanish fashion. So fond was she of jewels that George sometimes fancied she must have Jewish blood in her veins38. All her savings39 went in jewels--diamonds for choice. "They are pretty," Lola would say when Brendon remonstrated40 with her, "and when I am poor they can be changed into money. Oh, yes, why not?"
"Ah, but you are a cold blood, you English man," she said in allusion41 to Brendon's action. "But what would you--it is the fogs and cold snows. Come, my friend, to the table--to the table."
She clapped her hands, and seizing George by the arm forced him into a seat. The supper looked very tempting42. Lola had an eye for the beautiful, and arranged the table herself. A tall silver lamp with a pink shade shed a roseate light on the white cloth, the glittering crystal, and the quaint11 silver spoons and forks. Lola had picked up these things at odd times and displayed very good taste in her selection. In the center of the table was an oval silver dish filled with pink roses. "What extravagance!" said George.
"Ah, bah! I got them from San Remo--from a friend of mine," said Lola, removing a dish-cover; "they cost me not one sou. George, my dear friend, the Chianti is in the flask43 there, and this macaroni? Eh?" George passed his plate. The viands44 were cooked in the Italian fashion, and there was a foreign air about the supper which was grateful after a long course of English cooking. What with the foreign dishes, the pink-shaded lamp, and the candles likewise in pink shades on mantelpiece and sideboard, George felt as though he were in a Soho restaurant. The night was cold, he was hungry, and the supper, with its surroundings, was novel. He therefore made a good meal. Lola watched him eat with satisfaction.
"Ah, you like my housekeepers," she said, meaning housekeeping; "it is to your mind. Yes? Eh, my friend, I could feed you as fat as pigs if you would but allow me."
"I don't want to be fat," retorted George, reaching for the Chianti. "Give me a cigarette, Lola."
She produced her own case, and not only supplied him with one, but insisted on placing it between his lips and on lighting46 it. George wriggled47 uncomfortably, but it was no use objecting to Lola's ways. She would indulge her whims48 at any price. And he did not wish to leave until he had accomplished49 his mission.
"There, little friend," cried Lola, when he was seated comfortably by the fire and she was puffing50 also at a cigarette, "now we must talk. Why have you not been? Oh! you wicked young boy!"
"I have been engaged," replied George, secretly admiring the careless grace with which she was half lying, half sitting in the armchair opposite. She showed a dainty foot encased in a red stocking and a red shoe. Lola was all in crimson51 from head to foot, save for the jet and her dark face and hair. She looked like some sorceress bent52 upon unholy conjurations.
"Engaged!" she repeated with a flash of her wonderful eyes. "That is words for 'I don't want to come.'"
George laughed, shook his head, and changed the subject. Her remark about having a friend in San Remo ran in his mind. "Have you ever been there?" he asked, naming the town.
"Ah, bah! have I been anywhere? All Italy I know--all--all."
"You know it better than Spain. Yet you are Spanish."
"I am whatever you desire, my George. Yes, I am of Spain--of Cadiz, where my parents sold oil to their ruin. They came to Italy, to Milan and made money to live from wine. I was trained to the dance--they died, and I, my friend----"
"You told me all this before," interrupted Brendon, ruthlessly. "I ask if you have ever been to San Remo?"
"Why, yes, assuredly, and why not?" She looked at him with narrowing eyes as she put the question, blinking like a cat.
"There is no reason, only I was thinking----" He paused.
"Eh, you think--of what?"
"Oh, something which does not concern you, Lola."
"All that is of you is to me," she responded. "I love you."
"Lola, be reasonable."
"Pschutt! I mock myself of your reason," she cried, snapping her fingers and speaking in quite a French way. "I leave reasons to your chilly53 English ladies. I--eh, but you know I am of the South. To you--to you, my adored preserver, do I give myself."
George grew angry. "If you talk like this, Lola, I shall go away."
"Ah, then good-night to you. Let it be adieu and never come back."
"Not at all. Be a reasonable woman and sit down. Give me some more wine and a cigarette. I want to ask you a question."
Lola poured out the wine and tossed him a cigarette, but she refused to sit down or to compose herself. In a flaming temper she whirled about the room, talking all the time. "Ah, yes, but it is so always! I am a fool to love you, cold one--pig of an Englishman."
"That's grateful," said George, quietly, and she was at his feet.
"Ah, but no! I am a bad womans. I am entirely54 all wicked. You are an angel of the good God. Dearest--my own----" She stretched adoring hands, and her eyes glittered like stars.
George reasoned with her. "Lola, do you wish me to be pleased with you?"
"Assuredly, and why not?"
"Then sit down in your chair like a Christian55 and talk sensibly."
She sat down, or rather flung herself into the chair with a whirl of scarlet draperies. "Decidedly I am a Christian. I go to mass, I confess--yes, I confess to the priest how I love you."
"Do you really love me, Lola? I was told that you wished me harm."
She started from her chair with a passionate gesture.
"Who says it is liars56 of the worst. Tell me who speak, that I may tear and scratch."
"No! no! I don't want a scandal."
"For her sakes, oh, yes!" She subsided57 sulkily. "I am nothings."
"For whose sake?" asked Brendon, rather alarmed, for he did not wish this tigress to know about Dorothy.
"The other woman's. Oh, yes, there is some one else. I know. You are mine all, and would be but for the other womans. Imbecile that I am to think of you who kick me hard--hard. And I can learn nothing--nothing. If I did--if I knew, I----" She stopped and breathed hard.
"I wonder you don't have me watched," said George, thoroughly58 angry at her unreasonable59 attitude. Lola tossed her head, and her expression changed to one of alarm. Brendon saw the change and guessed its meaning. "You did have me watched."
"And what if I did?" she demanded defiantly60. "You are mine."
"I am not yours," he retorted angrily. "I have given you no cause to think that I would marry you."
Lola burst into tears. "You took me from the stones and snows," she wept with extravagant grief. "Why did I not die? You fed me with foods and made me shine in this London; you win my heart, and then--then--pschutt!" she snapped her fingers, "you toss it aside."
"Why did you have me watched?" asked George, sternly.
"I want to know of the other woman," she replied sullenly61.
"There is no----" He broke off. "It has nothing to do with you."
Lola sprang to her feet with fierce eyes. "Then there is another--another--oh, you cruel! Name of names, but I shall find her. I shall tell her----"
"You shall tell her nothing--you shall not see her."
"But I will. Eh; yes. You do not know me." This with a stamp.
"I know you cannot behave decently, Lola. If you have me watched again, if you dare to--to--bah!" George stamped in his turn. "I have had enough of this. Behave, or I go and will not return."
She flung herself at his feet with a wail62. "Ah, but no," she sobbed63, "I do love you so dearly--I will die if you love me not."
George drew himself roughly away, and taking her by the hands placed her in a chair, where she hid her face and sobbed. "Who was it you got to watch me--you hired to watch me?" George advisedly used the word "hired" as he thought she might have engaged one of her friends to do the dirty work, instead of engaging a professional. Yet he knew she was quite capable of going to a private inquiry64 office.
"I shall not tell you," said Lola, sitting up with a hard expression on her mouth and in her eyes.
"Did you pay him much?" asked Brendon, dexterously65.
"I paid him what I chose," retorted Lola, falling into the trap.
"Ah! Then it was a professional detective you engaged. You have been to one of those inquiry offices."
"That is my business," said Lola, who, seeing she had made a slip, became more obstinate66 than ever. More to show her calmness, she lighted a fresh cigarette and smoked it defiantly.
George shrugged his shoulders. He was not going to argue with her. Remembering that Bawdsey had mentioned her name, and that Bawdsey appeared to know all about himself, he began to put two and two together. Certainly he might be wrong, and Bawdsey might have nothing to do with the matter. Still it was worth while trying to startle Lola into a confession67 by the use of his name. His rescue of Bawdsey hinted that the long arm of coincidence might be at work. "Well, I don't know where he comes from----" began George.
Lola snapped him up. "Ah, yes, and you think it is a man. Bah! why not a woman, my dear?" she sneered68.
"Oh, you may have half-a-dozen at work--male and female both," said George, taking his seat, "but I should have thought that the red man was clever enough to----"
She threw away her cigarette and rose to her feet with such manifest alarm that George knew his guess was correct. "You talk foolish."
George looked at her angry face serenely69. "Did Bawdsey when he said you wished me harm?"
"What?" She flung up her hands, with blazing eyes. "Did he say I do wish you harm? Was it--that--that cow--pig----"
"Don't call names, Lola, and don't distress70 yourself. It was Bawdsey."
Lola saw that she had gone too far, and had, vulgarly speaking, given herself away. She tried to recover lost ground. "I do not know his names," she said sullenly; then burst out, "but I wish you no harm. Eh, will you believe that, my preserver?"
"I'll believe nothing if you will not tell me the truth," said Brendon, a little cruelly. "Come, Lola, admit that you paid Bawdsey to watch me."
"I did not pay--no, not one sou. He did it for love."
"Oh, indeed! So Bawdsey is in love with you?"
Lola threw back her head defiantly. "Yes, he is, and I care not one, two, three little trifles for him. Chup! He is old--he is red--he is one big fool, that I can twist and twist----"
"And you apparently71 have done so. Well, then, Lola, did you get him from a private inquiry office?"
"No, I did not so. He loved me, and sent me flowers--oh, many, many flowers--those roses." She pointed72 to the silver dish.
"So you can't tell the truth even in that," said George, deliberately73. "What of the friend in San Remo?"
"It is his friend. He had flowers from his friend. He told that."
Brendon sat up with an eager look in his eyes. So Bawdsey knew some one in San Remo. Probably he had been there, and Bawdsey was acquainted with his name. Brendon began to think that there was some meaning in all these things and plied45 Lola with questions. She was sulky at first and would not answer. But Brendon knew how to manage her, and before the conclusion of the conversation he got the whole truth out of her. This was accomplished by using what the Americans call "bluff74."
"So Bawdsey knows San Remo, and he is fifty, or over fifty, years of age. H'm! He knows all the history of the place, I suppose."
"I know not--nothing do I know."
"Ah, that's a pity! Bawdsey could tell you some nice tales." He fixed75 a keen glance on her. "About some yellow holly76, for instance."
Lola winced77, for the shot had gone home. But she still held to her declaration of ignorance. "I know nothings--absolutely."
"But apparently this man knows a great deal. He is in love with you, and must have told you much. Did he inform you of a certain murder which took place at San Remo?"
"Ah, bah! Why should he? I knew of all already."
"You! How did you know?"
"My father and my mothers, they lived in San Remo when--oh, they did tell me all of that Englishman."
"Did they know who murdered him?" asked George, marveling at this unexpected discovery.
"No. No one know anythings."
"Was there no suspicion?"
"Not one suspicions. I know nothings," she repeated doggedly78.
"It strikes me that you do. How did you and Bawdsey come to be talking of this matter?"
"We did not talk." Lola looked down at her foot as she told the lie and moved it restlessly.
George rose and took up his hat. Throwing his coat over his arm, he moved toward the door. "Good-night, mademoiselle."
She sprang to her feet and flew after him. "No! no!" she cried in lively alarm. "You must not go, my dearest dear."
"What is the use of my stopping when you will not show your gratitude toward me by telling the truth?" George hated to make such a speech as this, but it was the only way in which he could move her.
"I will tell! I will tell. Sit down. The coat--you shall not go. I will say all. Ask what you will. Sit, my little cabbage--a wine in the glass--ah, yes!--and a cigarette. Come, be good. Am I mademoiselle?"
"No," said George, smiling on her pleading face, "you are my friend Lola now that you are sensible."
"Ah, only friend!" she said sadly. "But I speak. Yes?"
George began at once to question her, lest the yielding mood should pass away. "You made the acquaintance of Bawdsey at the hall?"
Lola nodded. "He loved me; he sent me flowers; he was made a presentation to me by Kowlaski. I learn that he looks after people, what you call a--a-- un mouchard----"
"A spy--yes, go on."
"And I made him watch you. I told him your name."
"Did he know my name?" asked Brendon, quickly.
"He knew everything--oh, yes--all--all!"
Brendon was taken aback. "All--all what?" he asked amazed.
"Why--" Lola twirled her fingers--"all what you would not tell to me, my dear. That your names is Vane, and milor----"
"Derrington! Did Bawdsey mention Lord Derrington?"
"Yes. Oh, many times he speaks of milor. I speaks of San Remo. This--this Bawdsey ask me of the blue domino--of the holly----"
"Of the murder, in fact."
"It is quite so, my friend. Of the murder of your father."
"What?" George started from his seat. "Did he know that the man who was murdered at San Remo was my father?"
"Yes, and that it was difficult about the marriages."
"That also. He appears to know the whole story. And he mentioned Lord Derrington. That is how he comes to be acquainted with these facts. A spy--Derrington is employing him. And the man is boarding in Amelia Square." George struck his hands together. "By Jove, it's a conspiracy79, and I never knew anything!"
"I do not wish you to have the marriages right, George," said Lola, with a pout80. "If you are as what you are, then you will marry me. She will not be madame."
"She? Who?"
"The woman you--you--love." Lola got out the word with difficulty and burst into extravagant rage. "But she will not have you. No, you are mine. You will be Brendons--as I know you, and not Vane--never milor. I will not let it. If you are milor you marry her."
"Did Bawdsey tell you the name of the lady?"
"No. But he will tell. But she is a well-born one, and I am of the gutter81. But I love you--ah, yes I love you!" She threw her arms round him. "Be still Brendons, and not milor, and I am yours."
"No! no!" George took her arms from his neck and spoke82 more soberly. "Lola, hold your tongue about what you have told me, and I'll see you again. If you speak, I see you no more."
"I will be silent," she said as Brendon put on his coat. "But you are cruel, wicked. You shall never be milor, never!"
"How do you know?" asked George, contemptuously.
Lola's eyes blazed. "I know. I know. You will never be milor."
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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capered
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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exhausted
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sufficiently
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expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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proprietor
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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procured
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immediate
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enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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frantic
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revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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overflowing
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demon
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formerly
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gratitude
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resolutely
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erred
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relished
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spurn
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exasperated
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engrossed
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deluged
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persistency
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positively
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sitting-room
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extravagant
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scarlet
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prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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viands
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| n.食品，食物 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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dexterously
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| adv.巧妙地，敏捷地 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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pout
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| v.撅嘴；绷脸；n.撅嘴；生气，不高兴 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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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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