Part 12 (1/2)
”If you want to go,” he said, ”the way's open.”
”Can I really go if I want to, and not come back?”
”You really can,” he said. ”Most things that I want I take, but a man can't take help and comfort unless they are freely given.”
She moved slowly forward as if to discover the truth of his statement that the way was open. He made not the least gesture of interference.
When she was between him and the outer door and rather nearer the latter, she turned about sharply.
”What's troubling you?” she asked.
”The fact,” he said, and there was a something really charming in the expression of his mouth and eyes, ”that though I can give orders to very many people, and be obeyed as a general is obeyed by his soldiers in war times, I have no friend. Fear attracts this person to me, self-interest attracts that person, but there's no one that's held to me by friends.h.i.+p.”
”You're only asking me to be your friend?”
”You will be as safe in my house as in the rooms of the Gerry Society.”
”If you want me for a friend why did you call me _muck_ just now?”
”I don't want the others to know that we are friends. I want them to think--what they always think.”
”How do I know you trust me?”
”Lock the street door,” he said; ”you're younger than I. It's easier for you to move about.”
She locked the door and returned.
”Are you staying,” he asked, ”through curiosity or friends.h.i.+p?”
”Look here,” she said, ”it's neither, Can't you guess what ails me?”
”Tell me.”
She took his strong, wicked face between her young hands, and bending over kissed him on the forehead. Then she drew back, flaming.
The legless man was touched. ”Why?” he asked.
”I don't know. It just came to me,” she said. ”G.o.d knows I didn't want it to. I guess that's all”
Rose found it hard to control her jumping nerves. A curious thing had happened to her. Having at last wormed her way into the master's confidence, and brought a long piece of play-acting to a successful conclusion, a certain candor and frankness which were natural to her made the thought of divulging what she had already found out, and whatever he might confide to her in the future, exceedingly repugnant.
And she acknowledged with a s.h.i.+ver of revolt that the creature's fascination for her was not altogether a matter of make-believe. She was going to find it very hard to keep a proper perspective and point of view; to continue to regard him as just another ”case” and all in the day's work.
”In my house,” he said, ”you shall do as you please. You're a dear girl, Rose,”
”I feel at home in your house,” she said, ”and happy.”
A cloud gathered in Blizzard's face. ”Happiness!” he exclaimed. ”There is no such thing--neither for you, nor for me. The world is a torture-chamber, and remember, Rose, we are to be allies; we are to have no secrets from each other.”
She shrugged her shoulders. ”That was what you said,” she complained.