Part 46 (1/2)
Norvin turned to behold Miss Delord approaching them like an arrow.
She was a tiny creature, but it was plain that she was out in all her fighting strength. Her pretty face was dark with pa.s.sion, her eyes were flas.h.i.+ng, and they pierced her lover with a terrible glance as she paused before him, crying furiously:
”Well? Where is she?”
”Felicite,” stammered Dreux, ”d-don't cause a scene.”
Miss Delord stamped a ridiculously small foot and cried again, oblivious of all save her black jealousy:
”Where is she, I say? Eh? You fear to answer. You s.h.i.+eld her, perhaps.” A plump brown hand darted forth and seized Bernie by the ear, giving it a tweak like the bite of a parrot.
”Ouch!” he exclaimed, loudly. ”Felicite, you'll ruin us!”
A waiter began to laugh in smothered tones.
”Tell me,” stormed the diminutive fury. ”It is time we had a settlement, she and I. I will lead you to her by those a.s.s's ears of yours and let her hear the truth from your own mouth.”
”Miss Delord, you do Bernie an injustice,” Norvin said, placatingly.
She turned swiftly. ”Injustice? Bah! He is a flirt, a loathsome trifler. What could be more abominable?”
”Felicite! D-don't make a scene,” groaned the unhappy Dreux, nursing his ear and staring about the cafe with frightened, appealing eyes.
”Bernie was just--”
”You defend him, eh?” stormed the creole girl. ”You are his friend.
Beware, M'sieu, that I do not pull your ears also. I came here to unmask him.”
”Please sit down. You're attracting attention.”
”Attention! Yes! But this is nothing to what will follow. I shall make known his depravity to the whole city, for he has sweethearts like that King Solomon of old. It is his beauty, M'sieu! Listen! He loves a married woman! Imagine it!”
”Felicite! For Heaven's sake--”
”A dago woman by the name of Piggy. But wait, I shall make her squeal.
Piggy! A suitable name, indeed! He follows her about; he meets her secretly; he adores her, the scoundrel! Is it not disgusting? But I am no fool. I, too, have watched; I have followed them both, and I shall scratch her black face until it bleeds, then I shall tell her husband the whole truth.”
Miss Delord paused, out of breath for the moment, while Bernie pawed at her in a futile manner. Beads of perspiration were gathering upon his brow and he seemed upon the verge of swooning. As if from habit, however, he reached forth a trembling hand and deftly replaced a loose hairpin, then tucked in a stray lock which Felicite's vehemence had disarranged.
”Y-your hat's on one side, my dear,” he told her.
She tossed her head and drew away, saying, ”Your touch contaminates me--monster!”
Blake drew out a chair for her; his eyes were twinkling as he said, ”Won't you allow him to explain?”
”There is nothing to explain, since I know everything. See! His tongue cleaves to the roof of his mouth. He quails! He cannot even lie! But wait until I have told the Piggy's husband--that big, black ruffian-- then perhaps he will find his voice. Ah, if I had found that woman here there would have been a scene, I promise you.”
”Help me--out,” gasped Mr. Dreux, and Norvin came willingly to his friend's rescue.
”Bernie loves no one but you,” he said.