Part 26 (1/2)

”We will hope so, Queenie.”

”Another man, d.i.c.k! A strong, healthy and well man. And what I am praying to see, d.i.c.k--for I think the tie will help you to keep straight--well and able to marry.”

There ensued a moment's silence. The listener's imagination supplied the gap. What he had seen at the back of the bungalow at Wivernsea helped him thereto. He heard the pa.s.sionate sobbing; the impact of their lips.

Then he heard no more.

A great blurring veil seemed to come over sight, hearing, even faculty; to enshroud him. He staggered away as if physically injured. What he had heard hurt so.

On the other side of the door were Gracie's mother, Gracie's father. And they were talking of his coming back from a voyage well enough to marry.

His thoughts went away. Were of that sweet, innocent little child down at Wivernsea. As she came before him he almost groaned; it was too terrible, too horrible. Poor little Gracie!

Trembling fingers unlocked the door; he got downstairs somehow; down to the level of the bar. Called for brandy there, and, regardless of its quality, swallowed it.

It was a mechanical act. Instinct told him that he needed brandy, and he wanted to be doing something; inaction at that moment was maddening.

He walked outside.

CHAPTER XXI

THE ONLY WAY

The cabman was of a speculative nature. Had hung on the chance of Masters' needing to return. Half-sovereign fares are not picked up every hour in the day; the man who dispensed them was worth waiting for.

”Where to, sir?”

The query called down through the trap in the cab roof. The reply was:

”Back again.”

Directions so given, because, for the moment, the fare could think of nowhere else.... The cool air blowing on his face gradually brought him back to his usual clear perception of things; he remembered.

The woman he loved so, was lost and dead to him; he quite realized that.

Knew too that he loved her still; would do anything to ensure or bring about her happiness. Pity--heart-felt, whole-souled pity--was mingled with his feeling for her now.

Pondering over his position, he came to think of her as more sinned against than sinning. Almost joined in the prayer that the man she loved--whose existence was a bar to his own success--might return well enough to marry.

For Gracie's sake too--sweet, winsome little Gracie! If the man returned well enough to marry it would silence tongues. Surely it was a good prayer.

Then Gracie would grow up knowing nothing of her childhood. No bar sinister would, anyway, be apparent on her escutcheon. She could travel her road in life without a dark shadow o'erhanging it.

If he returned well enough to marry! Why shouldn't he? Or was he, in the solitude which he feared, likely to become despondent again? Was he not more liable to be so, in abstinence from those accustomed stimulants?

Despondent even to the clutching of a razor again?

What manner of man was he that had stolen the heart of Gracie's mother?

What manner of man was he who could have led astray so pure, so loving a soul?