Part 38 (1/2)
As to d.i.c.k, the gloom which had fallen on him during dinner seemed too thick for penetration. Merry d.i.c.k belied his nickname; had no more merriment in him than has a mute at a funeral.
In the drawing-room Masters was as miserable as he had been in the dining and smokerooms. Turned over photographs; sought in vain for something to make him look less of a fool than he felt. At last came to the end of his endurance tether; under a plea of some work he had to post to a publisher by the early morning's mail, hastily excused himself.
”It's a glorious night, old chap.” d.i.c.k, speaking hoa.r.s.ely, and getting into his great-coat. ”I'll walk home with you. We will smoke a cigar together.”
Masters said good-night; shook hands. Noticed the burning heat of Mrs.
Seton-Carr's, as for a moment her hand rested in his--but did not accord the true reason for it. She was even laughing with Chantrelle at the very moment she said good-night; was a natural actress: a woman.
”How quiet Mr. Masters is.” The cat purring: Amy speaking, as the door closed. ”But I suppose, socially, authors are as dull as ditch water.
Keep all their clever thoughts for their books. It is selfish of them in the extreme.”
Amy laughed gaily; continued in that strain. Laughter is the allotment of those who win; the Chantrelles felt justified in the belief that they were in no way losing.
Mrs. Seton-Carr professed accord in the opinion of Masters' dulness; the sea voyage had not improved him. Society was not the thing he shone in; in fact, she had found him rather depressing; was glad he left so early.
Lies! Lies--each and every one of the opinions she expressed.
The two men who had left the bungalow walked along the Parade for a time without speaking. Each was full of emotion. d.i.c.k's found vent first; he blurted out:
”I'm--I'm awfully sorry, old man!”
There was a faint tinge of nervousness in Masters' responding laugh; he was not a man to a.s.similate pity very well, even his best friends'.
Throwing away the cigar, which had gone out, he lighted his pipe; the match betrayed a shaking hand.
”Thanks.... Cloudless night; looks like being a fine day to-morrow, doesn't it?”
The effort to change the subject proved futile; d.i.c.k spoke impulsively:
”Hang the weather!... You don't think I knew anything of this, dear old chap----”
”No! No!”
”--or you know I should have----”
”Yes, yes. I know.”
”Mab has always professed to positively loathe Percy; tolerated him because she liked his sister. He is a bit of a bounder, you know.”
”Your sister does not seem to share in that opinion of yours.”
He could not quite keep the bitterness out of the way in which he said that.
”No!”
The brother admitted it; spoke just as bitterly. When they reached his lodgings Masters said:
”Come round, will you?”
”You--you won't come on to the cottage to----”
”Oh, no! No!”