Part 15 (2/2)
Next minute he heard a voice, which he knew only too well, a loud high voice say from the cab, ”Well, open the door, stupid, can't you?”
”Certainly, my lady fair,” replied another voice--a coa.r.s.e, somewhat husky male voice--”adored Edithia, in one moment.”
”Come stow that and let me out,” replied the adored Edithia sharply; and in another moment a large man in evening clothes, a horrible vulgar, carnal-looking man with red cheeks and a hanging under-lip, emerged into the lamp-light and turned to hand the lady out. As he did so the woman Ellen advanced from the doorway, and going to the cab door whispered something to its occupant.
”Hullo, Johnnie,” said the lady, as she descended from the cab, so loudly that Mr. Quest on the balcony could hear every word, ”you must be off; Mr. d'Aubigne has turned up, and perhaps he won't think three good company, so you had just best take this cab back again, my son, and that will save me the trouble of paying it. Come, cut.”
”D'Aubigne,” growled the flashy man with an oath, ”what do I care about d'Aubigne? Advance, d'Aubigne, and all's well! You needn't be jealous of me, I'm----”
”Now stop that noise and be off. He's a lawyer and he might not freeze on to you; don't you understand?”
”Well I'm a lawyer too and a pretty sharp one--/arcades ambo/,” said Johnnie with a coa.r.s.e laugh; ”and I tell you what it is, Edith, it ain't good enough to cart a fellow down in this howling wilderness and then send him away without a drink; lend us another fiver at any rate.
It ain't good enough, I say.”
”Good enough or not you'll have to go and you don't get any fivers out of me to-night. Now pack sharp, or I'll know the reason why,” and she pointed towards the cab in a fas.h.i.+on that seemed to cow her companion, for without another word he got into it.
In another moment the cab had turned, and he was gone, muttering curses as he went.
The woman, who was none other than Mrs. d'Aubigne, /alias/ Edith Jones, /alias/ the Tiger, turned and entered the house accompanied by her servant, Ellen, and presently Mr. Quest heard the rustle of her satin dress upon the stairs. He stepped back into the darkness of the balcony and waited. She opened the door, entered, and closed it behind her, and then, a little dazzled by the light, stood for some seconds looking about for her visitor. She was a thin, tall woman, who might have been any age between forty and fifty, with the wrecks of a very fine agile-looking figure. Her face, which was plentifully bedaubed with paint and powder, was sharp, fierce, and handsome, and crowned with a mane of false yellow hair. Her eyes were cold and blue, her lips thin and rather drawn, so as to show a double line of large and gleaming teeth. She was dressed in a rich and hideous tight-fitting gown of yellow satin, barred with black, and on her arms were long bright yellow gloves. She moved lightly and silently, and looked around her with a long-searching gaze, like that of a cat, and her general appearance conveyed an idea of hunger and wicked ferocity.
Such was the outward appearance of the Tiger, and of a truth it justified her name. ”Why, where the d.i.c.kens has he got to?” she said aloud; ”I wonder if he has given me the slip?”
”Here I am, Edith,” said Mr. Quest quietly, as he stepped from the balcony into the room.
”Oh, there you are, are you?” she said, ”hiding away in the dark--just like your nasty mean ways. Well, my long-lost one, so you have come home at last, and brought the tin with you. Well, give us a kiss,” and she advanced on him with her long arms outspread.
Mr. Quest s.h.i.+vered visibly, and stretching out his hand, stopped her from coming near him.
”No, thank you,” he said; ”I don't like paint.”
The taunt stopped her, and for a moment an evil light shone in her cold eyes.
”No wonder I have to paint,” she said, ”when I am so worn out with poverty and hard work--not like the lovely Mrs. Q., who has nothing to do all day except spend the money that I ought to have. I'll tell you what it is, my fine fellow: you had better be careful, or I'll have that pretty cuckoo out of her soft nest, and pluck her borrowed feathers off her, like the monkey did to the parrot.”
”Perhaps you had better stop that talk, and come to business. I am in no mood for this sort of thing, Edith,” and he turned round, shut the window, and drew the blind.
”Oh, all right; I'm agreeable, I'm sure. Stop a bit, though--I must have a brandy-and-soda first. I am as dry as a lime-kiln, and so would you be if you had to sing comic songs at a music hall for a living.
There, that's better,” and she put down the empty gla.s.s and threw herself on to the sofa. ”Now then, tune up as much as you like. How much tin have you brought?”
Mr. Quest sat down by the table, and then, as though suddenly struck by a thought, rose again, and going to the door, opened it and looked out into the pa.s.sage. There was n.o.body there, so he shut the door again, locked it, and then under cover of drawing the curtain which hung over it, slipped the key into his pocket.
”What are you at there?” said the woman suspiciously.
”I was just looking to see that Ellen was not at the key-hole, that's all. It would not be the first time that I have caught her there.”
”Just like your nasty low ways again,” she said. ”You've got some game on. I'll be bound that you have got some game on.”
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