Part 14 (2/2)

”Oh, Erik, I've been dancing. This is Mr. Meredith. I once told you about him. The music is simply wonderful here.”

Tesla, flabby-eyed and almost maliciously polite, as if he would expose the innate absurdity of politeness, tipped over a water gla.s.s in his floppings. Anna, still alive with the joyousness that had come to her, seated herself beside her husband. Her hand rested eagerly on his arm.

He must love her ... must. Must. It had been only a nightmare she'd invented. Oh, G.o.d, did anything matter as long as they loved each other?

”Tired, dearest?”

He looked at her and tried to lighten his eyes.

”Yes, a little. The d.a.m.ned war.”

”I'm so sorry.”

She mustn't ask him to dance. He was tired. She would coddle him. He was only a baby--tired, sleepy, sad. She must ask no questions. Only love.

Before her love the darkness of his face would clear away as before suns.h.i.+ne.

”I'm so happy, Erik darling!”

Her fingers quivered on his arm. He looked at her and smiled out of misty eyes. Of all the unbearable things in an unbearable world her happiness was the most unbearable. She nodded, as if she understood. Her pretense of understanding was a ghastly business. But Anna smiled. Poor Erik, he was only a boy. If only they were alone! If Eddie and Tesla and the whole world would go away and leave her with him, to kiss his eyes and stroke his hair. Sleep, baby, sleep.... What a crazy, wild thing, thinking that Erik no longer loved her. No longer loved her! Dear G.o.d, she was only a part of him. He must love her.... Must!

The talk kept on--words bubbling from Tesla, Eddie frisking with laughter.

”You must dance with me, Erik. It's been so long since we danced.”

There--she shouldn't have asked. She didn't mean to. Her eyes apologized. When he answered, ”No, I'm tired,” there was wine from a gla.s.s that warmed the little coldness his words dropped into her.

Listening to her, answering with words he tried to soften and make alive, Dorn tried to occupy himself with the details of the scene again.

Could he keep on living as two persons--one of them turning over and over in a fire that consumed him--and the other making phrases, gestures, as if there were no fire consuming him? If he kept his eyes working, perhaps. He hated Anna. But that was because he couldn't bear the thought of her suffering. He hated her because he must be kind to her.

Meredith was ordering the dinner. Dorn stared out over the room.

Anna was watching him with her senses. Why didn't he speak to her as Eddie did? Perhaps he was going mad. His eyes suffered. He looked at things and seemed to hurt himself with looking. She kept her voice vibrant with a hope of joyousness. ”I mustn't give in to the nightmare.

It's only imagining....”

”Erik, dearest, do eat something. Let me order for you.”

Talk, talk! Dorn listened. Anna was saying, ”Eddie thinks as you do about the war, Erik. Isn't that odd?” Yes, that anybody should be able to think as he did. He was a G.o.d. A super-G.o.d. If only she hated him. A moment of hate in her eyes would be heaven.

”A plain case of accepting an evil and making the best of it,” laughed Meredith. ”If we go in all I ask is for G.o.d's sake let's keep our eyes open and not s...o...b..r around.”

Soft remonstrances from Tesla with polite references to Wall Street.

Food on platters. An air of slight excitement with Anna directing the talk and serving. What made her so vivacious? The sight of an old friend, Meredith? Meredith ... oh, yes, school days, long ago. A wild hope unfolded itself in Dorn. He looked at the man anew. Fantastic notion. But throw them together, day and night. Cafes, dancing, music, propinquity. He was her type--kindly, unselfish, prosperously elate over life. He'd help her on with her wraps and be polite over doorways.

Perhaps. He turned to his wife and laughed softly. A way out. Give her to the man. Give her away. End her love for him--her d.a.m.ned, torturing love that made him turn over inside and weep at night when she was asleep; that hounded him like an unclean memory. It was only her love that made him unclean. He looked at her with his eyes lighted.

”Dancing makes a difference, doesn't it, dear? I'd dance myself, only my legs are tired.”

He smiled as he spoke with the unctuousness of a villain administering poison in a bouquet of roses. But a way to get rid of her love. He didn't mind her, but the thing in her. That was the whole of it. Why hide from it? G.o.d, if he could only kill it he'd be free. Otherwise he'd never be free. Even if he went away there'd be the thought of her love.... Anna's face bloomed with joy at his words.

”We'll come here another night when you're not tired, honey.”

”Yes,” he answered, ”make a party of it. How about that, Mr. Meredith?”

”Surest thing.”

They forgot Tesla.

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