Part 101 (1/2)
”Other things! Then you stayed some time?”
”A little while. If she really wishes to be at the rehearsal--”
”But we know she wishes it!”
”Well, then, she will suggest coming with you, or she may write to Crayford. I'm not going to do anything more about it.”
His face was stern, grim.
”Now I'll shut the window,” he added, ”or you'll catch cold in that low dress.”
He was moving to the window when she caught at his hand and detained him.
”Would you care if I did? Would you care if I were ill?”
”Of course I should.”
”Would you care if I--”
She did not finish the sentence, but still held his hand closely in hers. In her hand-grasp Claude felt jealousy, warm, fiery, a thing almost strangely vital.
”Does she--is she getting to love me as I wish to be loved?”
The question flashed through his mind. At that moment he was very glad that he had never betrayed Charmian, very glad of the Puritan in him which perhaps many women would jeer at, did they know of its existence.
”Charmian,” he said, ”let me shut the window.”
”Yes, yes; of course.”
She let his hand go.
”It is better not to listen to the voices,” she added. ”They make one feel too much!”
CHAPTER x.x.xIV
Nothing more was said by Charmian or Claude about Mrs. s.h.i.+ffney and the rehearsal. Mrs. s.h.i.+ffney made no sign. The rehearsals of Jacques Sennier's new opera were being pressed forward almost furiously, and no doubt she had little free time. Claude wondered very much what she would do, debated the question with himself. Surely now she would not wish to come to his rehearsal! And even if she did wish to be present, surely she would not try to come now! But women are not easily to be read.
Claude was aware that he could not divine what Mrs. s.h.i.+ffney would do.
He thought, however, that it was unlikely she would come. He thought also that he wished her not to come.
Nevertheless, when the darkness gathered over New York on Friday evening, he found himself wis.h.i.+ng strongly, even almost painfully, for her verdict.
Charmian was greatly excited. Claude still kept up his successful pretense of bold self-confidence. He had to strain every nerve to conceal his natural sensitiveness. But although he was racked by anxiety, and something else, he did not show it. Charmian was astonished by his apparent serenity now that the hour full of fate was approaching.
She admired him more than ever. She even wondered at him, remembering moments, not far off, when he had shown a sort of furtive bitterness, or weariness, or depression, when she had partially divined a blackness of the depths. Now his self-confidence lifted her, and she told him so.
”There's an atmosphere of success round you,” she said.
”Why not? We are going to reap the fruits of our labors,” he replied.