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I

 

"And You Won't Take Me To The Party?" Helene Pouted Charmingly As Her

Husband Laid Her Pink Taffeta Wrap Over Her Shoulders. "I Thought You

Said You Might Make It, And It Would Be Too Delightful To Dance With You

Once More."

 

"I'm Afraid Not. The Australian Mail Came In Just As Business Closed And

It's On My Mind. I Want To Go Over It Carefully Before I Dictate The

Answers In The Morning, And That Means Two Or Three Hours Of Hard Work

That Will Leave Me Pretty Well Fagged Out. Mrs. Thornton Has Offered To

Take You Home."

 

"I Hate Her."

 

"Oh, Please Don't!" Ruyler Smiled Into Her Somber Eyes. "She Wants The

Drive, And It Would Be Taking The Gwynnes So Far Out Of The Way. Mrs.

Thornton Very Kindly Suggested It."

 

"I Hate Her," Said Helene Conclusively. "I Wish Now I'd Kept My Own Car.

Then I Could Always Go Home Alone."

 

"You Shall Have A Car Next Winter. And This Time I Shall Not Permit You

To Pay For It Out Of Your Allowance--Which In Any Case I Hope To Increase

By That Time."

 

Her Eyes Flamed, But Not With Anger. "Then I'll Sell My Electric To

Aileen Lawton Right Away. We Have The Touring Car In The Country, And

She Has Been Trying To Make Her Father Buy Her An Electric--"

 

"I'm Afraid You'll Be Disappointed In Your Bargain. Second-Hand Cars, No

Matter What Their Condition, Always Go At A Sacrifice, And Old Lawton Is

A Notorious Screw. Better Not Let It Go For Two Or Three Hundreds; You

Look Very Sweet Driving About In It.... Oh, By The Way--I Had

Forgotten." He Slipped His Hand Under Her Coat, Unfastened The Chain And

Slipped The Jewel Into His Pocket. "I Am Sorry," He Said, With Real

Contrition, "And Almost Wish I Had Forgotten The Thing; But I Am A Little

Superstitious About Keeping That Old Promise."

 

She Laughed. "And Yet You Will Not Permit Poor Maman A Little

Superstition Of Her Own! But I Am Rather Glad. Everybody At The Ball Will

Hear Of The Ruby, And I Shall Be Able To Keep Them In Suspense Until The

Thornton Fete. Good Night. Don't Work Too Hard. Couldn't You Get There

For Supper?"

 

"'Fraid Not."

 

 

Ii

 

He Did Go Down To The Office And Glance Through The Australian Mail,

But At A Few Moments Before Twelve He Took A California Street Car Up

To The Fairmont Hotel And Went Directly To The Ballroom. Mrs.

Thornton Was Standing Just Within The Doorway, But Came Toward Him

With Lifted Eyebrows.

 

"This Is Like Old Times," She Said Playfully.

 

"I Found Less Mail Than I Expected And Thought I Would Come And Have A

Dance With My Wife." His Eyes Wandered Over The Large Room, Gayly

Decorated, And Filled With Dancing Couples.

 

Mrs. Thornton Laughed. "A Belle Like Your Wife? She Is Always Engaged For

Every Dance On Her Program Before She Is Halfway Down This Corridor."

 

"Oh, Well, Husbands Have Some Rights. I'll Take It By Force. I Don't See

Her--She Must Be Sitting Out."

 

Mrs. Thornton Slipped Her Arm Through His. "This Dance Has Just Begun.

Walk Me Up And Down. I Am Tired Of Standing On One Foot."

 

They Strolled Down The Corridor And Through The Large Central Hall. Older

Folks Sat Or Stood In Groups; A Few Young Couples Were Sitting Out.

Ruyler Did Not See His Wife, And Concluded She Had Been Resting At The

Moment In The Dowager Ranks Against The Wall Of The Ballroom. The Music

Ceased Sooner Than He Expected And Mrs. Thornton, Who Had Been Talking

With Animation On The Subject Of Several Fine Pictures She Had Bought

While Abroad For The Museum In Golden Gate Park, Including One By

Masefield Price, Broke Off With An Impatient Exclamation: "Bother! I Must

Run Up To My Room At Once And Telephone. Wait For Me Here."

 

She Steered Him Toward A Group Of Men. "Mr. Gwynne, Keep Mr. Ruyler From

Causing A Riot In The Ballroom. He Insists Upon Dancing With His Wife.

Hold Him By Force."

 

They Were Standing Near The Staircase And Some Distance From The Lift.

Mrs. Thornton Ran Up The Stairs, Pausing For An Irresistible Moment And

Looking Down At The Company. As She Stood There, Poised, She Looked A

Royal Figure With Her Cloth Of Gold Train Covering The Steps Below Her

And Her High And Flashing Head. "Wait For Me," She Said, Imperiously To

Price. "I Cannot Meander Down That Corridor, Deserted And Alone."

 

Ruyler Smiled At Her, But Said To Gwynne: "I'll Just Go And Engage My

Wife For A Dance And Be Back In A Jiffy--"

 

Gwynne Clasped His Hand About Ruyler's Arm. "Just A Moment, Old Chap. I

Want Your Opinion--"

 

"But There Is The Music Again. I'll Be Knocking People Over--"

 

"You Will If You Go Now, And There'll Be Dancing For Hours Yet. Your Wife

Has Been Dividing Up--Now, Tell Me If You Back Me In This Proposition Or

Not. I'm Going To Washington To Represent You Fellows--"

 

But Ruyler Had Broken Politely Away And Was Walking Down The Long

Corridor. When He Arrived At The Ballroom He Saw At A Glance That His

Wife Was Not There, For The Floor Was Only Half Filled. But There Were

Other Rooms Where Dancers Sat In Couples Or Groups When Tired. He Went

Hastily Through All Of Them, But Saw Nothing Of His Wife. Nor Of Doremus.

 

Mrs. Thornton Had Gone In Search Of Her.

 

And Gwynne Knew.

 

This Time The Hot Blood Was Pounding In His Head. He Felt As He Imagined

Madmen Did When About To Run Amok. Or Quite As Primitive As Any

Californian Of The Surging "Fifties."

 

He Was In One Of The Smaller Rooms And He Sat Down In A Corner With His

Back To The Few People In It And Endeavored To Take Hold Of Himself; The

Conventional Training Of Several Lifetimes And His Own Intense Pride

Forbade A Scene In Public. But His Curved Fingers Longed For Doremus'

Throat And He Made Up His Mind That If His Awful Suspicions Were

Vindicated He Would Beat His Wife Black And Blue. That Was Far More

Sensible And Manly Than Running Whining To A Divorce Court.

 

The Effort At Self-Control Left Him Gasping, But When He Rose From His

Shelter He Was Outwardly Composed, And Determined To Seek Gwynne And

Force The Truth From Him. He Would Not Discuss His Wife With Another

Woman. And Whatever This Hideous Tragedy Brooding Over His Life He Would

Go Out And Come To Grips With It At Once.

 

 

Iii

 

And In The Corridor He Saw His Wife Chatting Gayly With A Group Of Young

Friends. Her Color Was Paler Than Usual, Perhaps, But That Was Not

Uncommon At A Party, And Otherwise She Was As Unruffled, As Normal In

Appearance And Manner, As When They Had Parted At The Gwynnes'.

 

Nevertheless, He Went Directly Up To Her, And As She Gave A Little Cry Of

Pleased Surprise, He Drew Her Hand Through His Arm. "Come!" He Said

Imperiously. "You Are To Dance This With Me. I Broke Away On Purpose--"

 

"But, Darling, I Am Full Up--"

 

"You Have Skipped At Least Two. I Have Been Looking Everywhere For You--"

 

"Polly Roberts Dragged Me Upstairs To See The New Gowns M. Dupont Brought

Her From Paris. They Came This Afternoon--So Did Mrs. Thornton's--But Of

Course I'll Dance This With You. You Don't Look Well," She Added

Anxiously. "Aren't You?"

 

"Quite, But Rather Tired--Mentally. I Need A Dance...."

 

He Wondered If She Had Gently Propelled Him Down The Corridor. They Were

Some Distance From The Group. It Was Impossible For Him To Go Back And

Ask If His Wife's Story Were True. Mrs. Thornton Was Nowhere To Be Seen,

Neither In The Corridor Nor In The Ballroom. Nor Was Doremus. He Set His

Teeth Grimly And Managed To Smile Down Upon His Wife.

 

"I Shall Insist Upon Having More Than One," He Said Gallantly. "At Least

Three Hesitations."

 

She Drew In Her Breath With A Mock Sigh And Swept From Under Her Long

Lashes A Glance That Still Had The Power To Thrill Him. "Outrageous, But

I Shall Try To Bear Up," And The Next Moment They Were Giving A Graceful

Exhibition Of The Tango.

 

"I Don't See Your Friend Doremus," He Said Casually, As He Stood Fanning

Her At The End Of The Dance.

 

She Lifted Her Eyebrows Haughtily. "My Friend? That Parasite?"

 

"You Seemed Very Friendly At Dinner."

 

"I Usually Am With My Dinner Companion. One's Hostess Is To Be

Considered. Oh--I Remember--He Was Telling Me Some Very Amusing Gossip,

Although He Teased Me Into Fearing He Wouldn't. Now, If You Are Going To

Dance This Hesitation With Me You Had Better Whirl Me Off. It Is Mr.

Thornton's, And I See Him Coming."

 

Ruyler Did Not See Doremus Until Supper Was Half Over And Then The Young

Man Entered The Dining-Room Hurriedly, His Usually Serene Brow Lowering

And His Lips Set. He Walked Directly Up To Helene.

 

"Beastly Luck!" He Exclaimed. "Hello, Ruyler. Didn't Know You Honored

Parties Any More. I Had To Break Away To Meet The Overland Train--Beastly

Thing Was Late, Of Course. Then I Had To Take Them To Five Hotels Before

I Could Settle Them. They Had Two Beastly Little Dogs And The Hotels

Wouldn't Take Them In And They Wouldn't Give Up The Dogs. Some One Ought

To Set Up A High-Class Dog Hotel. Sure It Would Pay. But You'll Give Me

The First After Supper, Won't You?"

 

Helene Gave Him A Casual Smile That Was A Poor Reward For His Elaborate

Apology. "So Sorry," She Said With The Sweet Distant Manner In Which She

Disposed Of Bores And Climbers, "But Mr. Ruyler And I Are Both Tired. We

Are Going Home Directly After Supper."

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

I

 

On The Following Day At Six O'clock Ruyler Went To Long's To Meet Jake

Spaulding. By A Supreme Effort Of Will He Had Put His Private Affairs Out

Of His Mind And Concentrated On The Business Details Which Demanded The

Most Highly Trained Of His Faculties. But Now He Felt Relaxed, Almost

Languid, As He Walked Along Montgomery Street Toward The Rendezvous. He

Met No One He Knew. The Historic Montgomery Street, Once The Center Of

The City's Life, Was Almost Deserted, But Half Rebuilt. He Could Saunter

And Think Undisturbed.

 

What Was He To Hear? And What Bearing Would It Be Found To Have On His

Wife's Conduct?

 

He Had Gone To Sleep Last Night As Sure As A Man May Be Of Anything That

His Wife Was No More Interested In Doremus Than In Any Other Of The

Young Men Who Found Time To Dance Attendance Upon Idle, Bored, But

Virtuous Wives.

 

If The Man Knew Her Secret And Were Endeavoring To Exact Blackmail He

Would Pay His Price With Joy--After Thrashing Him, For He Would Have

Sacrificed The Half Of His Fortune Never To Experience Again Not Only The

Demoralizing Attack Of Jealous Madness Of The Night Before, Which Had

Brought In Its Wake The Uneasy Doubt If Civilization Were As Far Advanced

As He Had Fondly Imagined, But The Sensation Of Amazed Contempt Which Had

Swept Over Him At The Dinner Table As He Had Seen His Wife, Whom He Had

Believed To Be A Woman Of Instinctive Taste And Fastidiousness,

Manifestly Upon Intimate Terms With A Creature Who Should Have Been

Walking On Four Legs. Better, Perhaps, The Desire To Kill A Woman Than To

Despise Her--

 

He Slammed The Door When He Entered The Little Room Reserved For Him, And

Barely Restrained Himself From Flinging His Hat Into A Corner And

Breaking A Chair On The Table. His Languor Had Vanished.

 

Spaulding Followed Him Immediately.

 

"Howdy," He Said Genially, As He Pushed His Own Hat On The Back Of His

Head And Bit Hungrily At The End Of A Cigar. "Suppose You've Been

Impatient--Unless Too Busy To Think About It."

 

"I'd Like To Know What You've Found Out As Quickly As You Can Tell Me."

 

"Well, To Begin With The Kid.

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