Part 31 (1/2)

Parker, a little flushed, but resolutely flattening everything to the quality of the commonplace, emerged upon him suddenly. Miss Waters could see Mr. Chatteris for a few minutes. She was emphatic with the ”Miss Waters,” the more emphatic for all the insurgent stress of the G.o.ddess, protestingly emphatic. And Chatteris went up, white and resolved, to that smiling expectant presence. No one witnessed their meeting but Parker--a.s.suredly Parker could not resist seeing that, but Parker is silent--Parker preserves a silence that rubies could not break.

All I know, is this much from the porter:

”When I said she was up there and would see him,” he says, ”the way he rooshed up was outrageous. This is a Private Family Hotel. Of course one sees things at times even here, but----

”I couldn't find the manager to tell 'im,” said the hall-porter. ”And what was _I_ authorised to do?

”For a bit they talked with the door open, and then it was shut. That maid of hers did it--I lay.”

I asked an ign.o.ble question.

”Couldn't ketch a word,” said the hall-porter. ”Dropped to whispers--instanter.”

II

And afterwards--

It was within ten minutes of one that Parker, conferring an amount of decorum on the request beyond the power of any other living being, descended to demand--of all conceivable things--the bath chair!

”I got it,” said the hall-porter with inimitable profundity.

And then, having let me realise the fulness of that, he said: ”They never used it!”

”No?”

”No! He carried her down in his arms.”

”And out?”

”And out!”

He was difficult to follow in his description of the Sea Lady. She wore her wrap, it seems, and she was ”like a statue”--whatever he may have meant by that. Certainly not that she was impa.s.sive. ”Only,” said the porter, ”she was alive. One arm was bare, I know, and her hair was down, a tossing ma.s.s of gold.

”He looked, you know, like a man who's screwed himself up.

”She had one hand holding his hair--yes, holding his hair, with her fingers in among it....