Part 29 (2/2)
”What nonsense!” Dwight Herbert said angrily.
But Ina said tensely: ”_Is_ it nonsense? Haven't I been trying and trying to find out where the black satchel went? Di!”
Di's laughter rose, but it sounded thin and false.
”Listen to that, Bobby,” she said. ”Listen!”
”That won't do, Di,” said Ina. ”You can't deceive mamma and don't you try!” Her voice trembled, she was frantic with loving and authentic anxiety, but she was without power, she overshadowed the real gravity of the moment by her indignation.
”Mrs. Deacon----” began Bobby, and stood up, very straight and manly before them all.
But Dwight intervened, Dwight, the father, the master of his house. Here was something requiring him to act. So the father set his face like a mask and brought down his hand on the rail of the porch. It was as if the sound shattered a thousand filaments--where?
”Diana!” his voice was terrible, demanded a response, ravened among them.
”Yes, papa,” said Di, very small.
”Answer your mother. Answer _me_. Is there anything to this absurd tale?”
”No, papa,” said Di, trembling.
”Nothing whatever?”
”Nothing whatever.”
”Can you imagine how such a ridiculous report started?”
”No, papa.”
”Very well. Now we know where we are. If anyone hears this report repeated, send them to _me_.”
”Well, but that satchel--” said Ina, to whom an idea manifested less as a function than as a leech.
”One moment,” said Dwight. ”Lulu will of course verify what the child has said.”
There had never been an adult moment until that day when Lulu had not instinctively taken the part of the parents, of all parents. Now she saw Dwight's cruelty to her as his cruelty to Di; she saw Ina, herself a child in maternity, as ignorant of how to deal with the moment as was Dwight. She saw Di's falseness partly parented by these parents. She burned at the enormity of Dwight's appeal to her for verification. She threw up her head and no one had ever seen Lulu look like this.
”If you cannot settle this with Di,” said Lulu, ”you cannot settle it with me.”
”A s.h.i.+fty answer,” said Dwight. ”You have a genius at misrepresenting facts, you know, Lulu.”
”Bobby wanted to say something,” said Ina, still troubled.
”No, Mrs. Deacon,” said Bobby, low. ”I have nothing--more to say.”
In a little while, when Bobby went away, Di walked with him to the gate.
It was as if, the worst having happened to her, she dared everything now.
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