“Nothing, was it?”
“No, nothing—that unspeakable wind.” Anne Carver gave a last reluctant glance over her shoulder into the shadowed hall, and pulled the door to behind her, turning her face to the warm, bright room with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, Hal; it’s outrageous4 of me—right in the middle of that thrilling story, too.”
In spite of her slim height and the sophisticated skill with which she had wound her velvety6 black hair about her small head—in spite of the length of filmy train that swept behind her, she looked like some charming and contrite7 child as she came slowly across the room to the deep chintz chair and the dancing warmth of the fire.
“But it’s nonsense, my dear girl; sheer, unmitigated nonsense! Here you are spoiling what might have been a delightful8 evening by working yourself77 up into a magnificent state of nerves, and over what, I ask you? Over nothing, over less than nothing! Poor old Derry telephones that he won’t be able to get out to-night because he’s been dragged in on some fool party, and you apparently9 interpret it into meaning that you’re never going to lay eyes on him again in this world. You’ve been restless as a witch all evening—every time a door’s slammed or a latch10 has rattled11 you’ve fairly leapt out of your skin; and permit me to inform you that you’re getting me so that I’m about to start leaping, too. Nice, cheerful atmosphere for the stranger within your gates, my child.”
“Only what, for the love of Heaven? You aren’t expecting him back to-night, are you?”
“Well, of course, I know that he said he couldn’t possibly manage it, but he might—he can manage anything. And he wanted so dreadfully to see you; it’s been years, hasn’t it?”
“Well, you see! And of course he’d want to see me dreadfully, because it’s been years since he’s seen me, too; we have breakfast at half-past seven. Isn’t that hideous16? It takes him an hour to get into town; I do hate that. A whole hour away—think of it——”
78 “Anne, I blush for you; I do indeed. It’s embarrassing for any well-behaved bachelor to hear you talk. It’s sinful to lavish17 that amount of devotion on any man that lives.”
“Not on Derry.” The clear face was a little flushed, but the shining eyes met his unwaveringly. “You lavish it, too, Hal! I used to be bored to distraction18 by the tales that you’d pour out for hours on end about the fabulous19 student who was on his way back from Paris to spread havoc20 amongst the maidens21 of America. I used to laugh at you—remember?”
“Of course I remember.” The dark, ironic22 face was suddenly touched with a very charming smile. “That first evening that I brought him over after supper, and he talked until a quarter to one until he had everyone as excited as he was about things that we actually wouldn’t give a snap of our fingers for; I can see him standing23 by the mantel now, with every golden hair on his head ruffled24 up, and those crazy sherry-coloured eyes of his half mad with excitement, ranting25 like a Frenchman and laughing like a lunatic—I can see you with your face tilted26 up to him, forgetting that any of the rest of us were alive—— You had on a gray dress and someone had sent you white flowers, and you were wearing a long string of green beads27 that hung to your knees——”
79 “Hal, you’re making that up! Four years——”
“Is four years too long to remember green beads and white flowers? Perhaps you’re right! But it isn’t too long to remember Derry’s voice when he told us about the night that he and the drunken cab driver spent in the Louvre, is it? Shades of Gargantua, how that kid could laugh! After all, there’s never been any one else just like him, has there?”
“Not ever—oh, not ever. It’s the cruellest shame that he couldn’t be here now; he’d love it so, and you could have such a beautiful time reminiscing—oh, I can’t bear having him away on a night like this. When I went to the door just then those trees by the gate were straining like dogs on a leash28, and the wind had wrenched29 a great branch off the lilac bush. I do hate November! And the rain like gray floods—and so cold, Hal. He oughtn’t to be out in that, truly. He ought to be here where he could play with us, where it’s warm and kind and—safe. Do you suppose they were motoring?”
“I don’t suppose anything at all. My dear girl, you aren’t going to start that all over again?”
“Ah, it’s frightfully silly, I know. Old married people—three-year-old married people—they oughtn’t to mind things like that. But it’s the first time that he’s been away all night, and I’m—oh, I’m ridiculous. Scold me, scold me hard!”
80 “You’re a very difficult person to scold, all things considered. It’s those unprincipled eyelashes, probably. First time in three years, honestly, Anne? Good Lord, it’s unbelievable!”
“Hal!”
“Well, but my good child! Long Island and the twentieth century and the tottering30 state of holy matrimony—it’s simply defying the laws of gravity! Do you sit here hanging the crane every night of your lives?”
“Oh, Hal, you lovely idiot! Of course we don’t; we go out any amount and have people here a lot, and go in town, too. Only we happen to like each other—rather—and to like to play together—rather—so we just go ahead and do it. It’s simply happened that up to now nothing turned up that we couldn’t do together; of course it was bound to happen sooner or later. Of course I know that, Hal.” She leaned forward, the firelight painting flying shadows on the vivid, high-bred little face. “But I’m an utter goose about Derry. I feel empty when he isn’t around, and I don’t care who knows it.”
“A bit hard on the rest of us, isn’t it? Still, if it’s the same Derry that I practically bestowed31 on you at the altar I’m rather inclined to get your point of view. Not changed for the worse?”
“Changed for the better, thank you!” laughed81 Derry’s wife. “Better and better and better every minute, once removed from your sinister33 influence.” She smiled her gay affection at him, and then suddenly the smile wavered, faded—she sprang to her feet, trailing her blue-green draperies over to the long window.
“Don’t you hate that noise, Hal? No, listen. The rain’s out to drown the world, and that wind——” She shivered, staring out into the menacing blackness, raging like a wild beast on the other side of the lighted window. “Poor Hal, it’s going to be simply awful for you! It’s a good ten minutes’ walk to the club, and these back roads turn into mud soup if it even showers! I do think it’s a wicked shame.”
“Perhaps I’d better be getting on my way——”
“No, no!” There was a note of sheer panic in her voice, though she laughed it down valiantly34. “Why, it can’t be eleven, and he isn’t going to call up till twelve. You simply have to entertain me; I won’t be abandoned yet. No, I mean it. Let’s start again—about Brazil. You were telling me about Brazil——”
“You aren’t even remotely interested in Brazil,” he accused. “But I’ll talk to you about any place from Peoria to Patagonia, if you’ll stop wandering about like a lost soul, and come back to the fire, like a good child.”
82 “Yes,” replied the good child obediently, dropping the curtain. “Does—does it seem cold to you in here, Hal?”
“Cold? It’s heavenly warm; if I were a cat I’d purr for you.”
“It feels—cold, to me,” said Anne Carver, spreading her hands before the leaping flames. “As though the wind had got in through the window somehow, and into my blood—and into my bones——”
“Nonsense,” said Devon sharply. “You got chilled standing over there; you’re an unconscionable goose, and I’m beginning to be strongly out of patience with you. Sit down and put your feet on the fender—want something over your shoulders?”
She shook her head, holding her hands closer to the fire.
“No, please—I’d rather not sit down just yet. It was the window, of course. Don’t be cross; I do want to hear the rest of that about Brazil. Some day I’m going there; some day I’m going to find a country where there’s no such time as autumn—no such month as November, full of dead leaves, and wind and cold—and emptiness. Tell me what’s prettiest there; there must be so many pretty things? Birds with shining feathers—butterflies like flowers—flowers like butterflies—gold83 like sunshine and sunshine like gold—oh, I’m warmer just for thinking of it! Tell me what was prettiest?”
“I saw nothing half so pretty as a lady with the lamplight falling about her, bending over pansies black as her hair in a bowl green as her eyes.”
“Oh!” She straightened swiftly, giving the flowers a last friendly touch, and facing him, lightly flushed, lightly reproachful. “Green, Hal? That’s not pretty at all—and it stands for something shameful35.”
“But how could I, even if I were capable of such cheapness and ugliness? I’ve never in my life cared for any one but Derry.”
“And Derry, lovely lady, would never give you cause?”
“Derry?” The startled incredulity of that cry rang into clear mirth. “Why, Hal, it may be difficult for you to believe, but Derry loves me.”
Devon tapped the ashes off his cigarette, and sat staring for a moment at the reddened tip.
“It doesn’t precisely39 strain my credulity to the breaking point,” he replied drily. “No, I can imagine that Derry might love you. It hardly requires any colossal40 stretch of imagination on my84 part, either. I’ve loved you myself for thirteen years.”
“Hal!”
“Loved you with every drop of blood in my body. There’s no use looking stricken and melodramatic, Anne. I’ve never worried you much about it, have I?”
“No,” she whispered voicelessly.
“No. Well, then, don’t worry me about it now, there’s a good girl. I’m off for Ceylon to-morrow, and I haven’t the most remote intention of making a nuisance of myself to-night. You don’t have to remind me of the fact that Derry’s my best friend, that I was his best man, that you are his wife. I have an excellent memory for such trifling41 details myself. It’s only fair to add, however, that I wouldn’t give a tuppenny damn for the whole collection if it weren’t for one other.”
“The rather important one that you’re happy,” replied Devon evenly. “I came all the way back from Brazil to find out whether he was making you happy—and now I’m off to-morrow.”
“Happy is a poor word for what he has made me,” she said. “You should have known that, you who know Derry. Oh, Hal—oh, Hal, how could you?”
85 “It isn’t done, I know,” he assented44. “It’s always the cad and the villain45 who is caught out making love to his friend’s wife at all hours of the night. But there’s a slight distinction in my favour, you see; I am loving you, not making love to you.”
“You’re hurting me,” she told him. “Pretty badly.”
“You have no right to be hurt. It’s nothing ugly that I am giving you. Out of pain and bitterness and despair I’ve wrought46 something rather fine; it isn’t like you to disdain47 it, my dear. Ever since you were a little girl with dark braids swinging to your waist, I’ve brought you presents; every corner of the earth I’ve ransacked48 just to have you touch those gifts with your fingers, and say, ‘That’s lovely, Hal—that’s lovely’—and smile. The only thing worth giving you was not in my power to bestow32, but I wanted to make sure that you had it, no matter whose hands had held it out to you. Happiness is yours, Anne—I have nothing left to give you but my love. I swear to you that there is not one thing in it that gives you the right to say that it hurts you. Believe me, you can take it in your hands—and smile.”
“Yes. Yes, Hal.” She smiled at him, grave and misty-eyed—and he smiled back.
“Then that’s about all, my dear, and I’ll be86 going. It’s no hour at all for a poor bachelor to be awake. Good-night, Anne; sweet dreams to you.”
“Hal, I don’t want you to go—please, I don’t want you to go.” There was something so desperate in her low entreaty49 that he halted with lifted brows. “I know that it’s utterly50 foolish and unreasonable—and—and selfish, but I simply can’t bear to be left here alone until Derry calls me up. Please, please don’t leave me.”
“Very well.” He turned back to his chair slowly. “This isn’t like you, you know.”
“I know.” She sat staring down at her locked fingers. “It isn’t a bit like me; I haven’t any nerves at all, as a rule—not enough to make me sympathetic even. Derry says my lack of imagination is simply appalling—that unless I can see a thing or touch it or taste it or smell it or hear it, I simply won’t believe that it exists—that I don’t really believe that the world’s round, because it looks flat to me! He laughs about it, but I do honestly think that it worries him.”
“It generally worries Derry when someone doesn’t see things his way.” Devon smiled reminiscently.
“Well, you know how he is. He fully14 believes that they’re trying to signal to us from Mars, and he almost goes wild because no one pays any attention87 to the signals! He thinks that phonographs are much more incredible than Ouija boards, and that telephones are far more extraordinary than telepathy. It wouldn’t be any effort to Derry to believe that the world was shaped like a hat-box, with blue and green stripes and a nice little handle to carry it around!”
“You must be a great trial to him, Madame Materialist51.”
“Oh, he wrings52 his hands over me. He says for any one to seem as spiritual and be as literal as I am is nothing more nor less than a swindle. Oh, oh, if he could see me to-night!”
“But will you be good enough to tell me what in the name of Heaven is the matter with you to-night?”
“I don’t know; I don’t know.” She drew a long breath, making a piteous effort to smile. “I’m—frightened.”
“Frightened of what?”
“I don’t know, I tell you.” She glanced about her with a long, despairing shiver. “Of the night—of the world—of the room—of—of everything.”
“The room! You know when you talk like that, Anne, you make me seriously consider ringing up a doctor. I don’t believe that all America holds a more delightful room—gayer or kinder or more friendly; it’s nothing short of a miracle what88 you’ve done to this old barn! It’s the most reassuring53 room I’ve ever set my foot in; you know, when you come into it with its fires and flowers and lights, you can almost hear it singing and laughing to itself, ‘Here—here dwells happiness.’”
“Oh, yes, you’re right—it has been happy.” Her eyes strayed over its treasures; the shelves warm and bright with books, with the beloved Lowestoft standing like flowers against the panelled cream of the walls, the lustre54 gleaming in blue and copper55 bravery along the firelit mantel, the glazed56 chintz holding out its prim57 nosegays proudly for all to see—the English prints on the walls echoing the gay warmth of the hooked rugs on the floor—she brought her haunted eyes back to Devon.
“It’s a pretty room,” she said in a strange little voice. “I do think it’s quite a pretty room. But do you know what it looks like to me to-night? To-night it looks to me like a corpse58 that someone had dressed in a flowered frock and a ribboned hat.”
“Anne!” His voice cracked out like a whip. “Now that’s enough; you’re to pull yourself together at once, or I’m going to call up the doctor. That’s an abominably59 morbid60 thing to say—it’s simply not healthy. I’m not joking, my dear; I have every intention of calling him up if you haven’t yourself in hand in the next five minutes.”
89 He leaned across to the table, drawing the shining black instrument closer toward him.
“D’you think I’m sick?” she asked piteously. “You know, I do think I must be sick. I’m so—I’m so dreadfully cold.”
“No—no—it isn’t a scarf I want. I’m cold inside, dreadfully, dreadfully. It isn’t a scarf.”
“You’re worrying me badly, Anne. Look here, what is it? This party of Derry’s, honestly?”
“Yes, the party. It’s foolish, I know; I know—don’t say it, please—I know.”
“Well, but what about it? Did Derry seem worried himself? Did he sound upset?”
“No. He sounded—casual. As casual as—as casual as——” She made a little despairing gesture with her hand. “I can’t tell you how casual he sounded.”
“Well, then——”
“Well, then, but that’s it, Hal. Derry isn’t a bit a casual person, and here were you for the first time in three years—and here was I, and he knows how I loathe62 being left alone out here with the maids—and he sounded as though it were—nothing. Just nothing at all.”
“And is this honestly the mole-hill out of which you’ve built your mountain?”
90 “No—I don’t know; I can’t even explain it to myself—how could I explain it to you? It wasn’t anything tangible63 at first. Just a feeling of—of discomfort—something vague and not pleasant; I couldn’t even put my finger on it. I told myself that I was being silly and unreasonable—I did indeed. You mustn’t think that I enjoy this kind of thing. I hate it, I hate it.”
“But I’m so utterly at sea to account for this, my dear, and I want to help you. You’re tormenting64 yourself about something real if we could only put our finger on it. Something that Derry said or did that worried you; you can’t make me believe that you’ve manufactured all of this out of thin air! It’s too unlike you—why, ever since that first day I met you, a pale mite65 of a thing with great eyes and long braids, brave and proud and gentle in the midst of the rest of those young hoydens, I’ve found you exquisitely66 fair and adorably, adorably reasonable. No one’s ever been like you, Anne; you mustn’t wreck67 my world by showing me little clay feet to-night.”
“Trying to flatter me into being a good child? That’s dear of you, but oh, I’m beyond flattery. I’m making up for any past arrears68 of reason to-night, I promise you.”
“Well, then, let’s try to get to the bottom of it—hunt91 the good old subconscious69 into the open! Now what exactly was this famous telephone conversation, word for word?”
She turned her head restlessly.
“Oh, Hal, what does it matter? Very well—only I’ve told you once, you know. He said, ‘I’m awfully sorry, dear, but I won’t be able to get out this evening. Tell Hal that I’m sorry as the dickens, but that we can have lunch at the office to-morrow; one sharp. That’ll give him plenty of time to get off again on his globe-trotting.’ And I said, ‘But what time will you get out?’ He said, ‘Six-thirty to-morrow, as usual. I may bring Joe Carey along with me.’ I was so surprised that I almost lost my voice, Hal, and I said, ‘Why, Derry, not to-night?’ And he just laughed, and said, ‘No; I’ve been roped in on the darnedest party you ever heard of—got to run now, or I’d explain. I can’t possibly get out of it. You’ll be awfully amused when I tell you. It’s a good joke on me!’ I said, ‘But where are you going?’ And Derry said, ‘Lord knows! I’ve got to run, honestly, dear. Tell you what I’ll do: I’ll call you up when it’s over, and let you in on the whole blooming thing. It’s too good to sleep on; wait till you hear! It may be late—will you be awake at twelve?’ And I said, ‘I’ll be awake at six if you don’t call up. Promise, Derry.’ And he said, ‘Promised! Not later than92 twelve. Give Hal my best—see you both to-morrow.’ And—he rang off.”
“That was absolutely all there was to it?”
“Absolutely all.”
“Very well. I’ll bet you five thousand dollars to a pansy, Lady Tragedy, that the midnight expedition runs somewhat on these lines. Mr. Jabez K. Rugg from Omaha, Nebraska, blows into our Derry’s office late this afternoon with an interesting proposition. He has heard that he is the most promising70 young architect in America, and as he is desirous of presenting his third wife with a cross between a Moorish71 palace and a French chateau72 for a little anniversary surprise he has applied73 to Derry for some sound advice, for which he is willing and eager to disburse74 colossal sums. Time presses, however, and the worthy75 Mr. Rugg yearns76 to invest his precious hours in New York both profitably and pleasantly. He suggests that the promising young architect put on his hat, lock up his office, and sally forth77 into the night, which they will spend together, chattering78 of business and painting the unfortunate town a brilliant red. He doesn’t happen to know the ropes, but he has a really touching79 confidence in our Derrick. And our Derrick, fired with the desire to hang pearls about your neck and sables80 about your shoulders, wafts81 a good-night kiss to the pleasant anticipation93 of firelight and candlelight, and sallies forth into what the poet refers to as ‘the lights of old Broadway.’ And there you are! Please pick me out a nice pansy.”
“That’s all very clever and amusing, Hal, but it isn’t especially convincing. And it doesn’t relieve me any more than if someone tried to cheer things up by doing a fox-trot to the funeral march. You needn’t scowl82; it doesn’t. If it was as simple as that, why didn’t he explain it at the time?”
“My dear child, he was evidently in a tearing hurry—he’d have had to go into elaborate explanations to make it clear, and he obviously wasn’t in any position to indulge in the luxury of explanations. The impetuous Mr. Rugg may have been clamouring at the door, or tooting his horn underneath83 the window. At any rate, he’s going to call you up in a bare half hour, and clear up the whole thing; he’s apt to keep his word, isn’t he?”
“Apt to?” she echoed scornfully. “He’d keep his word if the world came to an end. I thought that you knew him.”
“Why, so did I,” he returned evenly. “But apparently I was mistaken. The Derry I knew was not a plaster saint, you see!”
“Nor is the Derry that I know—plaster.” Her94 voice shook, but she held her head very high. “Are you trying to make me mistrust him, Hal? Be careful, please; you are only making me mistrust you.”
“Oh, good God!” He flung at her a look of such revolt and despair that the small frozen face softened85. “Look here, don’t—don’t let’s make more of a mess of this. You can’t believe that kind of thing of me, Anne; you may know Derry, but you’ve known me longer, after all. I’d cut my throat before I’d try to come between you two. Derry’s worth a thousand of me, of course—I know. He’s made you happy, and nothing that I could do in this life or the next would ever repay him for that. But just for a moment it galled86 me hideously87 to have you lavishing88 that flood of adoration89 on any man that lived: it was a flick90 on a raw wound, and something deep in me yelled out rebellion. You think jealousy a cheap and ugly thing, you say—well, now you know just how cheap, just how ugly it can be!”
“Ah, I’m sorry——” She leaned to him, all gentleness once more. “I’m sorry that I was hateful; it’s nothing but these unspeakable nerves, truly. Let’s forget it all, shan’t we? Do you think it’s letting up a little outside? It doesn’t sound quite so—so savage91, does it?” As though resentful of her waning92 terror, the beast outside95 flung itself at them once more, pouncing93 on the house with a long and terrible roar, shaking it in its monstrous94 claws as though it would rattle12 the flimsy barriers of wood and glass out of their cracking frames. She shrank deeper into the chair with a tremulous laugh. “Oh, no, it’s incredible—no, listen to it. I’ll wager95 that it’s literally96 tearing trees up by the roots and——” She broke off tensely. “Hal, you don’t think that it could damage the wires, do you?”
“No, no; nonsense! It sounds a great deal worse than it is; this house is nothing but a rattletrap, I tell you. It takes a worse storm than this to put a telephone out of commission.”
“If he doesn’t telephone, I can’t bear it,” she said softly. “That’s not rhetoric97. I simply can’t bear it.”
The telephone that he reached for suddenly gave a faint jangle—a small, far-off warning of sound—and then it rang aloud, sharp and imperative99.
“Oh, Hal!” Her voice was an exultant100 quiver. “No, no, give it to me; he’s early, isn’t he? It’s not nearly twelve, is it? Yes—yes, this is Mrs. Carver—this is Anne, darling——” The thrilled voice wavered and flagged. “Oh—oh, I’m sorry; you must have the wrong number.... Yes,96 it’s Mrs. Carver—Mrs. Derrick Carver. No, but it’s a mistake.... No, no one’s been using the wire this evening; no, it hasn’t rung at all. I’ve been rather expecting a call, but the wire’s been perfectly101 clear since nine.... What?... I can’t hear—there’s a singing on the wires.... What?... No, the receiver hasn’t been off; I’m sorry that you’ve had so much trouble getting us, but I really think that there’s some mistake—perhaps the maids——” She bit her lip, with a glance of despairing amusement at Devon. “Why, yes, it’s possible that someone else has been trying to get a call through to me, but none has come through.... Yes, it might have been long distance.... What? You’ve been trying for an hour? Well, that really isn’t my fault, is it? If you’ll tell me what you want.... I can’t hear; please speak a little louder.... No, it doesn’t make any difference whether any one else is here or not, you can give the message to me. I’m quite as capable of hearing what you have to say as any one else.... No, I most certainly will not; please tell me what you want, or I shall simply ring off.... Yes. Yes. I can hear.... Oh, its Headquarters. Well, you can tell for yourself that the telephone’s not working well; there’s that singing on the wires and every now and then it97 buzzes, too. I suppose it’s this storm; I’m so glad you’re working on it. Do see if there’s not something that you can do; I am expecting an important call any minute. Can’t one of your men?... Well, then, what on earth did you call up for? I do think that this service—— Oh——” Her voice died suddenly in her throat, and at the look in her eyes Devon leapt to his feet.
“Here, Anne—give it to me!”
She shook her head, fighting desperately102 to get back her voice.
“No, no—wait.... Yes, I heard you perfectly—yes, Police Headquarters. I didn’t understand. It’s some mistake, of course.... No.... No, he’s not here.... Well, then, if you knew that, what do you want?... I don’t know where—I don’t know, I tell you.... I can’t hear you—please spell.... Green’s? Breen’s?... No, I never heard of such a place.... No, I don’t know who he went with; it was some kind of a party—some kind of a.... Who?... Lola? Lola what? No, no, never mind—I never heard of her—never.... Please—please wait a minute—I want to ask you a question—just one. Please. I’ve answered all of yours, haven’t I?... Then—where is Mr. Carver? Where is he?... No, no, you know where he is—you do—you do—you98 do! You have to tell me—You have to—you.... Hal! Hal!”
“Make them tell you—you’re a man—make them—make them——”
Her teeth were chattering so violently that the words were lost; she clung to the table edge, shaken with a dreadful and racking tremor104, her tortured eyes fastened on his face.
“What the devil do you mean, calling up at this hour of the night?” demanded Devon violently. “I don’t care who you are; it’s a damned outrage5, ringing up a woman at this hour and frightening the heart out of her. One of your dirty charges for speeding, I’ll bet.... If you’ve got Mr. Carver there, send him to the ’phone and send him quick.... Well, if it comes down to that, I don’t like your tone, either.... What?... What?... Oh, report and be damned; you’re going to get a report on yourself that’ll blow the inside of your head out.... Well, get me Mr. Carver then and snap into it.... I can’t hear.... Where is he then?... Where?... Oh, speak louder—where is he?... What?...”
99 “Yes, I heard you; I heard you perfectly—be good enough not to shout.... Yes.... No, I’ll explain to Mrs. Carver.... Well, I can’t give you credentials106 over the telephone, but I have known Mr. and Mrs. Carver for years; I was at school with him—yes. My name’s Devon.... D-e-v-o-n. Henry Devon.... Yes, I’ll drop in to see you to-morrow.... No, you can’t speak to Mrs. Carver—no, that’s final. I’d be much obliged if you’d give me any details that you have. Just run over the facts.... Yes.... I didn’t get that.... Oh—blonde.... No, I couldn’t tell you.... No, you’re on the wrong track; there has been no trouble of any kind between them.... Well, there isn’t any explanation—not any; it’s—it’s.... Look here, give me your number and I’ll call up again in a few minutes.... Yes. 5493?... oh, 53!... In about fifteen minutes.... Yes.”
He placed the receiver slowly on the hook, and stood staring down at the little black instrument that had been so vocal107, and now was dumb.
“Hal?” The voice was not more than a breath, but at its sound he shuddered108, as though he were cold. “Hal?”
“Sit down, Anne; here, I’ll pull it closer to the fire—that’s it.”
100 “Hal, what did that man say? Has there been an accident?”
“Something like that.”
“Is Derry—hurt?”
“Yes, dear.”
She sat quite still, only her fingers stirring, drawing the silken tassel109 on her girdle back and forth, back and forth.
“Is Derry—dead, Hal?”
“Yes, dear.”
She let the girdle slip from her fingers, lifting her hands to push back the weight of hair from her forehead with a small sigh, like a tired child.
“I think it’s just some mistake, don’t you, Hal?”
“I wish to God that I could think so.”
“Well—but what made them think it was Derry?”
“He had letters—cards—initials on his cigarette case.”
“Oh, yes, it’s a diamond-shaped monogram—awfully pretty. I gave it to him last Christmas; you can’t think how pleased he was. D.H.C.—Derrick Horn Carver—— Who was Lola?”
“She was a—a girl who was with him.”
“Was she? Where did it happen?”
101 “Please tell me just what happened. Did another automobile111 hit them?”
“No.”
After a long moment she said again in that dreadful, gentle little voice.
“Well? Then what was it? I’m waiting.”
“Anne, I don’t know how to tell you. I’d rather have the heart torn out of my body then tell you. Wait——”
“I’m through waiting. Is it as bad as that? Hurry up, please. What happened? Where did they find him?”
“In a road-house near Princeton—a place called Breen’s.”
“Was he alone?”
“No—there was a girl with him. They don’t know who she was; her handkerchief had ‘Lola’ on it.”
“Had she killed him?”
“No.”
“How do they know she hadn’t?”
“Because she was shot herself—in the back.”
“Then who killed him?”
“They——” He set his teeth, the sweat standing out on his forehead. “I’m not going to tell you any more about it now. Wait—wait——”
“If you don’t tell me, I’m going out through102 that door and walk until I get to New York. Who killed him?”
“They say he killed himself.”
“Killed himself? I never heard of such ridiculous nonsense.” She was speaking as quietly and evenly as though she were discussing the labour problem, frozen to a calm more terrible than any madness. “Why should he have killed himself?”
“My God, how do I know? There was no one else to kill him—the pistol was still in his hand.”
“Where were the rest of the party?”
“There was no one else in the party. The proprietor112 said that they came alone, arrived at about nine and ordered supper—it was after ten when they heard the shots.”
“The proprietor probably did it himself,” said Anne Carver softly. “You let them say these things about Derry without contradiction—you, who know that he would die rather than give pain to any wretched little animal that lives?”
“I can’t believe it, Anne. I can’t believe it—but what else in God’s name can I believe?”
“You can believe what you please; and you evidently please to believe something more filthy113 than any nightmare that I have ever had.”
“You are being extraordinarily114 cruel, Anne. What explanation do you give?”
“There are a thousand. Robbery——”
103 “But nothing that he had was touched——”
“He was protecting the girl——”
“Against whom?”
“It might have been blackmail—it might have been a maniac115; it might have been anything, anything, anything but the thing that you think. If Derry were here he would strike you dead for what you believe of him. I wish that he were here to strike you dead.”
“I wish it, too. Believe me, life does not very greatly appeal to me at present.”
“Did you think that if you destroyed my faith in him I would fall weeping into your arms?” she asked smoothly116. “Spare yourself the trouble. I would die before I touched you with a finger, now that I know what you think of him.”
“By God!” He towered suddenly above her. “That’s enough, I’m off. You’ll live yet to regret that, Anne.”
“No—no—no—don’t leave me—don’t, don’t.” She caught at his arm as though she were drowning—slipping, slipping deeper into icy water. For a moment he thought that she was going to die where she sat in the great chintz chair. “No, no; I’ll be good—I’ll be good. I didn’t mean it, truly, truly. Hold me, hold me—you loved him, too, didn’t you, Hal?”
“Yes, dear.”
104 “If he were here he’d tell us how it happened—you’d see. He said it was an awfully good joke on him, too good to keep. He’d tell us.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Isn’t it too bad not to believe in God and Heaven and angels and Ouija boards? Then I could pretend that I could see him again, and that he would tell me. Derry believed all that kind of thing, but I never believed in anything but Derry—and now he’s gone. What time is it?”
“A minute or so to twelve, by this clock.”
“He didn’t keep his word, either, did he? He said not later than twelve—promised! Think of Derry breaking a promise——”
“Anne—Anne——”
“Oh, I know—of course he’s dead, but still—he was Derry. The wind’s worse, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“When it pounces117 like that, you can see the flames flatten118 out; it comes down the chimney. Look—it’s burning lower. I’m cold—I’m cold——”
“I’ll get more wood. Is it in the hall?”
“No, let it burn out. It’s late; you must go, mustn’t you? I don’t want you to go—there’s too much wind. It sounds as though it were alive—it sounds as though it were the only thing alive in the world—listen——”
105 She leaned far forward in the winged chair, and suddenly above the rush and clamour of the wind the telephone rang out, loudly and urgently. Again—again. She sat quite still, with lifted hand, her incredulous eyes frozen on the small black messenger blaring out its summons, the receiver fairly quivering on the hook. Again—again—strident and insistent—again. Devon rose slowly to his feet.
“I’ll answer it.”
“No,” breathed Anne. “No.”
“It’s probably Headquarters again.”
“No,” she whispered. “No—no—it’s not Headquarters again.”
She stumbled out of the chair, clinging to the arms, groping, uncertain, like someone suddenly gone blind, and then in a swift rush she was past him, and the telephone was fast in her hands.
“Yes,” she said clearly. “Long distance—yes, I know.... It’s Anne, dear, it’s Anne.... I can’t hear—it’s so far away—can’t you speak louder? Please, please.... Can you hear me? Can you?... Listen—listen.... I can’t hear very well—listen—you were going to tell me about the party. Remember?... The party—you were going to explain.... No—no—no—I can’t hear.... Make me hear—make me hear—say it again!...106 No, no, don’t go—no, you can’t go.... No! Derry! Derry!”
The terrible cry tore through the room like something unchained, and Devon sprang to her.
“Take your hands away,” she panted. “Don’t dare—don’t dare.... Central!” She jangled the hook frenziedly. “Central—you cut me off.... Central.... No, no, I won’t excuse it—never, never.... Get him back, I tell you—get him back.... No, I don’t know the number.... No—you mustn’t say that—you can help me.... You can....” She was weeping terribly, throwing back her head to keep her lips clear of the flooding tears, stammering119 desperately, “No—no.... It was long distance, I tell you—long distance—long——”
Her voice rose—fell—was suddenly and startlingly silent. After a long moment she let the receiver slip from her fingers; it swung limply across the blue-green draperies while she stood very straight, holding the telephone against her heart.
Devon tried to speak, failed, tried again.
“It was a mistake?”
“Oh, no.” She smiled forgivingly at him. “It107 wasn’t a mistake; it was Derry. He wanted to explain to me, but I couldn’t hear. It was my fault, you see—I couldn’t hear.”
She stood quite still, stroking the small dark thing against her heart with light and gentle fingers, and then, with an infinitely caressing121 gesture, she bent122 her head to it—closer, closer, still smiling a little, as though against her curved lips she heard the echo of a far-off voice.
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1
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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contrite
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| adj.悔悟了的，后悔的，痛悔的 | |
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8
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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9
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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10
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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13
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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14
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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concisely
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| adv.简明地 | |
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16
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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17
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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18
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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19
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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20
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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21
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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22
ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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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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24
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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25
ranting
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| v.夸夸其谈( rant的现在分词 )；大叫大嚷地以…说教；气愤地)大叫大嚷；不停地大声抱怨 | |
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26
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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27
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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28
leash
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| n.牵狗的皮带，束缚；v.用皮带系住 | |
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29
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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30
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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31
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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33
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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34
valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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35
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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36
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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37
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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38
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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39
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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40
colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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41
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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42
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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43
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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44
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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46
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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47
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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48
ransacked
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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49
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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50
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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51
materialist
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| n. 唯物主义者 | |
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52
wrings
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| 绞( wring的第三人称单数 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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53
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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54
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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55
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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56
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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57
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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58
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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59
abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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60
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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61
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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62
loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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63
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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64
tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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65
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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66
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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67
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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68
arrears
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| n.到期未付之债，拖欠的款项；待做的工作 | |
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69
subconscious
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| n./adj.潜意识(的)，下意识(的) | |
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70
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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71
moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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72
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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73
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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74
disburse
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| v.支出，拨款 | |
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75
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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76
yearns
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的第三人称单数 ) | |
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77
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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78
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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79
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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80
sables
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| n.紫貂( sable的名词复数 )；紫貂皮；阴暗的；暗夜 | |
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81
wafts
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| n.空中飘来的气味，一阵气味( waft的名词复数 )；摇转风扇v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的第三人称单数 ) | |
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82
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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83
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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84
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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85
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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86
galled
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| v.使…擦痛( gall的过去式和过去分词 )；擦伤；烦扰；侮辱 | |
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87
hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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88
lavishing
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的现在分词 ) | |
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89
adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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90
flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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91
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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92
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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93
pouncing
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的现在分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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94
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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95
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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97
rhetoric
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| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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98
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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99
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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100
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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101
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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102
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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103
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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104
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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105
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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106
credentials
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| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
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107
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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108
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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109
tassel
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| n.流苏，穗；v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须 | |
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110
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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111
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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112
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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113
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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114
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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115
maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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116
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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117
pounces
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的第三人称单数 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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118
flatten
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| v.把．．．弄平，使倒伏；使(漆等)失去光泽 | |
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119
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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120
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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121
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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122
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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