Part 13 (1/2)
”Does not justify a man of your position in taking a 'department store saleswoman' to drive on Sunday through public places.”
”Perhaps you are right. Then I shall efface myself promptly, and you and Leighton can keep the carriage as long as you like.”
”Such favors I accept from no man.”
”Not even to help your sick boy?”
She put her hand on the child's s.h.i.+ning curls, and a world of tenderness glorified her velvet eyes.
”Not even for my very own baby could I incur such an obligation.”
”Smell them, mother--like spice! Don't they make you think of the carnation garden in San Francisco, where Uncle Dane used to carry us?”
”How long ago was that, Leighton?” asked Mr. Herriott, watching the woman's face.
”Oh, it was when I was a little chap and wore frocks.”
”Were you born in San Francisco?”
”No. He was born in ---- Territory.”
”Mrs. Dane, can you tell me what became of the artist Belmont?”
”Why do you ask me that question?”
”In order to get an answer. He painted your face for his 'Aurora,' and the picture was photographed.”
”Yes; I needed money, and Mr. Dane permitted him to come to our house for the sittings. That was my first and last experience as a model.”
”I have met you before.”
She straightened herself, and answered defiantly:
”Probably I have sold you gloves, or socks, or handkerchiefs--certainly not the right to meddle with my personal affairs.”
”I went with a San Francisco friend to see a night school for women, which his mother had established. You were there.”
”Yes, I was there two winters. Now, sir, have you a police badge hidden inside your coat? Are you playing reporter--disguised as a benevolent gentleman--hunting up the details of last night's meeting and riot at Newark? You know, of course, that I made a speech there?”
”Indeed? I had imagined you sat up all night with your sick boy.”
”There is a strike on down there, and I spoke against arbitrating labor grievances, and against the ghastly sham of getting the rights of the poor from a picked judge and a packed jury. Bombs and boycott make the best mill for grinding out justice to starving, over-worked men and women.”
”How long have you been an 'anarchist,' or perhaps you prefer the term 'socialist'?”
”From the day I was sixteen years old, and learned how rich men trample and betray and despise and insult the ignorant, helpless poor.”
”It must have been a terribly cruel grievance that transformed into a fury one who was intended for a loving, gentle woman.”
She laughed, and her beautiful teeth took hold of the glowing under lip.
”Grievance? We all have one--we are simply born to suffer, as to breathe--but the unendurable the unpardonable comes from the grasping, murderous, fiendish selfishness of rich men. You have been so kind to my boy, I have tried hard to believe genuine benevolence--what you are pleased to call 'Christian philanthropy'--inspired your visits to him during my absence, but you are all alike--you gilded society sultans--and you come here with some cowardly design carefully smothered under flowers, fruit, and candy. So, Leighton, make the most of to-day, for we will see no more of your Mr. Herriott.”