Part 61 (1/2)

”Because I'm not--not a d.a.m.ned adulterer!” the words were torn from her.

”But I can't clean my thoughts of wanting to be. My dear--after so long--I've helped you and been patient. Can't you do something--now, to make me able to bear it?”

”Now _you_ know what it is to--” he began with an ugly laugh. Then rage seized him. ”I'll break his d.a.m.ned neck,” he cried.

”That's no use! What will that do to me? You can't kill the love that's tearing me up, by smas.h.i.+ng his body to bits! You see, Louis, I've got him, for ever and ever. The s.h.i.+ning, knightly side of me has. But it's the greedy side of me--the side that makes you grab out for whisky--that's sticking teeth into me now. And you know how it hurts.”

”G.o.d! I'll break his d.a.m.ned neck,” he cried again, and raged off into the Bush.

She crept into the house. A wild thought came to her that, if there were any killing it would be Kraill who would do it. And he and she would run away for awhile, right into the Bush, before people came to hang them.

She stopped breathing at the gloriousness, the primitive full-bloodedness of it, and then writhed in horror at the greed of such thoughts, and prayed pa.s.sionately that a sentry might be put at the door of her mind.

And she knew, very well, that presently Louis would be back--that he would say once again all the foul things he had said before, now with some glimmering of truth in them: that he would get money from somewhere and be drunk to-night, for now, at least, he had excuse. Then he would grin foolishly, and cry weakly, and rage and be futilely violent, and she would have to take this quivering thing that housed her armoured soul and make it do his service; she would have to undress him and wash him so that Andrew, trotting in in the morning, should not see his father in bed dirty; she would have to kiss away his ravings, soothe his fears. Presently she shook her head many times. She knew that she could never do that any more.

An hour, two hours pa.s.sed. She sat quite still. Then a shadow crossed the window and steps came on to the verandah. She did not move. Louis stood by the door. Kraill was beside him. Louis looked quite sane, and very unusually young and boyish. There was a queerly different look about him. She stared at him for a moment; almost it seemed as though she could see a s.h.i.+ne about him for an instant. Then she looked at Kraill, and he at her. She did not move, but her soul was on its knees wors.h.i.+pping his beautiful, still eyes that were tragic no longer, but very wise and sad. He read all that she did not say.

Louis coughed.

”Marcella--I'm sorry, old girl. Kraill has talked to me about it. He's been--or rather--we've been bucking each other up.”

He coughed awkwardly.

”Bucking each other up--no end, old lady,” he added, and ran his hand through his hair, making it wild, and rough.

She smiled faintly with her lips. For another moment she could not s.n.a.t.c.h her eyes away from Kraill's.

Then she said faintly:

”It's all very well, Louis. You're always being sorry! Aren't you?”

”This is the last time, Marcella, that there'll be any need to be very sorry,” he said solemnly. ”I was going to clear out for good, but Kraill made me come back.”

”That's all very well, too. Professor Kraill is going away. He doesn't have to put up with you. He doesn't have to sleep with you. You will be drunk to-night, and every night when there's any money. And next day you'll be whining about it. I've lost hope now. I'm tired, tired of to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow.”

Kraill's eyes were on her. The echo of a c.o.c.k that crowed outside a door in Jerusalem nineteen hundred years ago came to her and her eyes filled with tears.

”Oh I'm so sorry! You asked me for my courage,” she said to Kraill.

”There's no need for it now--on Louis's account, Marcella. You believe what I say to you, don't you?”

He smiled at her; he looked very friendly, very kindly.

”You know I believe you!” she cried.

”Then I tell you that Louis is quite better now. He is going to take care of you and Andrew. I can't prove it to you, yet. But you will see it as time goes on.”

”I don't want him any more,” she cried, ”I want you--Oh no--no--!”

His eyes held hers again, tragic and terrible. Then again he smiled, and she felt that she had failed him.