Part 8 (1/2)
”Nonsense! He cannot go back on his agreement.”
”You mean he has accepted money? That,” bitterly, ”means nothing to him.”
”Nevertheless it gives me ground to stand on. And you, too. You have done secretarial work before?”
”Yes. I have certain qualifications. At intervals I have tried to make myself independent. Several times I have secured office positions in Vancouver. But father has always made the holding of them impossible.”
”How?”
”I would rather not go into it.” There was weary disgust in her voice.
”But what reason does he give?”
”That his daughter's place is in her father's house--funny, isn't it?”
”You do not think that affection has anything to do with it?”
”Not even remotely. Whatever his reason may be for keeping me with him, it is not that. Affection is something of which one knows by instinct, don't you think? Even Li Ho--I know instinctively that Li Ho is fond of me. I am absolutely certain that my father is not.”
”It is no life for a young girl.”
”It has been my life.”
The professor felt uncomfortable. There was that in her tone which forbade all comment. She had given him this tiny glimpse and quite evidently intended to give no more. But Spence, upon occasion, could be a persistent man.
”Miss Desire,” he said gravely, ”do you absolutely decline my friends.h.i.+p?” If she wanted directness, she was getting it now.
”How can I do otherwise?” Her face was turned from him and her low voice was m.u.f.fled by her hair. But for the first time she had cast away her guard of light indifference. ”Friends.h.i.+p is impossible for me. I thought you would see--and go away. Nothing that you can do would be any real help. I have tried before to free myself. But I could not.
Nor, in the little flights of freedom which I had, did I find anything that I wanted. I am as well here as anywhere. Unless--”
She was silent, looking into the fire.
”Unless I were really free,” she added softly.
He could not see her face. But she looked very young sitting there with her unbound hair and hands clasped childishly about her knees.
”You have wondered about me--in a psychological way--ever since you came.” She went on, her voice taking on a harsher note. ”You have been trying to 'place' me. Well, since you are curious I will tell you what I am. When I was younger and we lived in towns I used to wander off by myself down the main streets to gaze in the windows. I never went into any of the stores. The things I wanted were inside and for sale--but I could not buy them. I was just a window-gazer. That's what I am still.
Life is for sale somewhere. But I cannot buy it.”
The throb of her voice was like the beating of caged wings through the quiet room.
”But--” began Spence, and then he paused. It wasn't at all easy to know what to say. ”You are mistaken,” he went on finally. ”Life isn't for sale anywhere. Life is inside, not outside. And no one ever really wants the things they see in other people's windows.”
”I do,” said Desire coldly.
She was certainty very young! Spence felt suddenly indulgent.
”What, then--for instance?” he asked.
The girl shook back her hair and arose.