The Top of the World by Ethel May Dell (best book club books for discussion TXT) 📕

the quickest way to hell? He's an authority on that, Sylvia. He knows all the shortest cuts."
He broke off with a sudden hard breath, and Sylvia saw again that awful shadow gather in his eyes. She made way for Kieff, though not consciously at his behest, and there followed a dreadful struggling upon which she could not look. Kieff spoke once or twice briefly, authoritatively, and was answered by a sound more anguished than any words. Then at the end of several unspeakable seconds she heard Burke's footstep outside the door. She turned to him as he entered, with a thankfulness beyond all expression.
"Oh, Burke, he is suffering--so terribly. Do see if you can help!"
He passed her swiftly and went to the other side of the bed. Somehow his presence braced her. She looked again upon Guy in his extremity.
He was propped against Kieff's shoulder, his face quite livid, his eyes roaming wildly round the room, till suddenly they found and rested upon her own. All her life Sylvia was to remember the appeal those eyes held for her. It was as if his soul were crying aloud to her for freedom.
She came to the foot of the bed. The anguish had entered into her also, and it was more than she could bear.
She turned from Burke to Kieff. "Oh, do anything--anything--to help him!" she implored him. "Don't let him suffer--like this!"
Kieff's hand went to his pocket. "There is only one thing," he said.
Burke, his arm behind Guy's convulsed body, made an abrupt gesture with his free hand. "Wait! He'll come through it. He did before."
And still those tortured eyes besought Sylvia, urged her, entreated her.
She left the foot of the bed, and went to Kieff. Her lips felt stiff and numb, but she forced them to speak.
"If you have anything that will help him, give it to him now! Don't wait! Don't wait!"
Kieff the impassive, nodded briefly, and took his hand from his pocket.
"Wait! He is better," Burke said.
But, "Don't wait! Don't wait!" whispered Sylvia. "Don't let him die--like this!"
Kieff held out to her a small leather case. "Open it!" he said.
She obeyed him though her hands were trembling. She took out the needle and syringe it contained.
Burke said no more. Perhaps he realized that the cause was already lost. And so he looked on in utter silence while Sylvia and Kieff between them administered the only thing that could ease the awful suffering that seemed greater than flesh and blood could bear.
It took effect with marvellous quickness--that remedy of Kieff's. It was, to Sylvia's imagination, like the casting forth of a demon. Guy's burning eyes ceased to implore her. He strained no longer in the cruel grip. His whole frame relaxed, and he even smiled at her as they laid him back against the pillows.
"That's better," he said.
"Thank God!" Sylvia whispered.
His eyes were drooping heavily. He tried to keep them open. "Hold my hand!" he murmured to her.
She sat on the edge of the bed, and took it between her own.
His finger pressed hers. "That's good, darling. Now I'm happy. Wish we--could go on like this--always. Don't you?"
"No," she whispered back. "I want you well again."
"Ah!" His eyes were closing; he opened them again. "You mean that, sweetheart? You really want me?"
"Of course I do," she said.
Guy was still smiling but there was pathos in his smile. "Ah, that makes a difference," he said, "--all the difference. That means you've quite forgiven me. Quite, Sylvia?"
"Quite," she answered, and she spoke straight from her heart. She had forgotten Burke, forgotten Kieff, forgotten everyone in that moment save Guy, the dear lover of her youth.
And he too was looking at her with eyes that saw her alone. "Kiss me, little sweetheart!" he said softly. "And then I'll know--for sure."
It was boyishly spoken, and she could not refuse. She had no thought of refusing.
As in the old days when they had been young together, her heart responded to the call of his. She leaned down to him instantly and very lovingly, and kissed him.
"Sure you want me?" whispered Guy.
"God knows I do," she answered him very earnestly.
He smiled at her and closed his eyes. "Good night!" he murmured.
"Good night, dear!" she whispered back.
And then in the silence that followed she knew that he fell asleep.
Someone touched her shoulder, and she looked up. Burke was standing by her side.
"You can leave him now," he said. "He won't wake."
He spoke very quietly, but she thought his face was stern. A faint throb of misgiving went through her. She slipped her hand free and rose.
She saw that Kieff had already gone, and for a moment she hesitated. But Burke took her steadily by the arm, and led her from the room.
"He won't wake," he reiterated. "You must have something to eat,"
They entered the sitting-room, and she saw with relief that Kieff was not there either. The table was spread for luncheon, and Burke led her to it.
"Sit down!" he said. "Never mind about Kieff! He can look after himself."
She sat down in silence. Somehow she felt out of touch with Burke at that moment. Her long vigil beside Guy seemed in some inexplicable fashion to have cut her off from him. Or was it those strange words that Kieff had uttered and which even yet were running in her brain? Whatever it was, it prevented all intimacy between them. They might have been chance-met strangers sitting at the same board. He waited upon her as if he were thinking of other things.
Her own thoughts were with Guy alone. She ate mechanically, half unconsciously watching the door, her ears strained to catch any sound.
"He will probably sleep for hours," Burke said, breaking the silence.
She looked at him with a start. She had almost forgotten his presence. She met his eyes and felt for a few seconds oddly disconcerted. It was with an effort she spoke in answer.
"I hope he will. That suffering is so terrible."
"It's bad enough," said Burke. "But the morphia habit is worse. That's damnable."
She drew a sharp breath. She felt almost as if he had struck her over the heart. "Oh, but surely--" she said--"surely--having it just once--like that----"
"Do you think he is the sort of man to be satisfied with just once of anything?" said Burke.
The question did not demand an answer, she made none. With an effort she controlled her distress and changed the subject.
"How long will Dr. Kieff stay?"
Burke's eyes were upon her again. She wished he would not look at her so intently. "He will probably see him through," he said. "How long that will take it is impossible to say. Not long, I hope."
"You don't like him?" she ventured.
"Personally," said Burke, "I detest him. He is not out here in his professional capacity. In fact I have a notion that he was kicked out of that some years ago. But that doesn't prevent him being a very clever surgeon. He likes a job of this kind."
Sylvia caught at the words. "Then he ought to succeed," she said. "Surely he will succeed!"
"I think you may trust him to do his best," Burke said.
They spoke but little during the rest of the meal. There seemed to be nothing to say. In some curious fashion Sylvia felt paralyzed. She could not turn her thought in any but the one direction, and she knew subtly but quite unmistakably that in this they were not in sympathy. It was a relief to her when Burke rose from the table. She was longing to get back to Guy. She had an almost overwhelming desire to be alone with him, even though he lay unconscious of her. They had known each other so long ago, before she had come to this land of strangers. Was it altogether unnatural that meeting thus again the old link should have been forged anew? And his need of her was so great--infinitely greater now than it had ever been before.
She lingered a few moments to set the table in order for Kieff; then turned to go to him, and was surprised to find Burke still standing by the door.
She looked at him questioningly, and as if in answer he laid his hand upon her shoulder, detaining her. He did not speak immediately, and she had a curious idea that he was embarrassed.
"What is it, partner?" she said, withdrawing her thoughts from Guy with a conscious effort.
He bent slightly towards her. His hold upon her was not wholly steady. It was as if some hidden force vibrated strongly within him, making itself felt to his very finger-tips. Yet his face was perfectly composed, even grim, as he said, "There is one thing I want to say to you before you go. Sylvia, I haven't asserted any right over you so far. But don't forget--don't let anyone induce you to forget--that the right is mine! I may claim it--some day."
That aroused her from preoccupation very effectually. The colour flamed in her face. "Burke! I don't understand you!" she said, speaking quickly and rather breathlessly, for her heart was beating fast and hard. "Have you gone mad?"
"No, I am not mad," he said, and faintly smiled.
"I am just looking after our joint interests, that's all."
She opened her eyes wide. "Still I don't understand you," she said. "I thought you promised--I thought we agreed--that you were never to interfere with my liberty."
"Unless you abused it," said Burke.
She flinched a little in spite of herself, so uncompromising were both his tone and attitude. But in a moment she drew herself erect, facing him fearlessly.
"I don't think you know--quite--what you are saying to me," she said. "You are tired, and you are looking at things--all crooked. Will you please take a rest this afternoon? I am sure you need it. And to-night--" She paused a moment, for, her courage notwithstanding, she had begun to tremble--"to-night,"--she said again, and still paused, feeling his hand tighten upon her, feeling her heart quicken almost intolerably under its weight.
"Yes?" he said, his voice low, intensely quiet, "Please finish! What am I to do to-night?"
She faced him bravely, with all her strength. "I hope," she said, "you will come and tell me you are sorry."
He threw up his head with a sharp gesture. She saw his eyes kindle and burn with a flame she dared not meet.
A swift misgiving assailed her. She tried to release herself, but he took her by the other shoulder also, holding her before him.
"And if I do all that," he said, a deep quiver in his voice that thrilled her through and through, "what shall I get in return? How shall I be rewarded?"
She gripped her self-control with a great effort, summoning that high courage of hers which had never before failed her.
She smiled straight up at him, a splendid, resolute smile. "You shall have--the kiss of peace," she said.
His expression changed. For a moment his hold became