She sank into a chair and began to cry.
“But I suppose you were so frightened you didn’t know what you were doing. Was that it?”
“Yes.”
He went over to her and took her hands in his.
“Come on. I’m going to put you into a more comfortable chair.”
He raised her gently, then led her to an arm-chair near the fire.
“Now, have a cigarette.”
“Why are you so good to me? I was nearly mad to-night.”
“Then why didn’t you send for me?”
She did not reply, and he went on.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Tell me—have you had anything to eat?”
She shook her head.
“Then I’ll go out and get something.”
“No—really!—I couldn’t eat anything.”
There was a long silence. Eventually Rendell asked:
“Do you feel up to discussing Marsden?”
“Yes, I suppose so. What does he want?”
“He wants you to marry him.”
“Then why did he send you to ask me?”
“Because he feels a bit awkward about it,” Rendell replied. “And for these reasons. He hasn’t much money. You’d have to live in his cottage in the country. You’d also have to give up your job. And—he’s a cripple.”
“And I don’t love him,” Vera added.
“No, but he doesn’t know that.”
“Oh well, you can tell him I’ll marry him.”
Her tone was so casual, and yet contained such weariness, that Rendell did not reply immediately.
“You’re as indifferent as all that?” he asked at last.
“Yes. You were right when you said I was a fool emotionally. I’ll be safer behind bars. So I’d better marry Peter, and the sooner the better.”
“Well, you can marry him at once, if you want to. He’s got a special licence and——”
“Do you like him?” she asked suddenly.
Rendell hesitated.
“Do you
“No.”
“I knew you didn’t, but I wanted to make you say it. He’s weak, mean, and vain. Did you think I didn’t know that? But I’m not going to marry him if he’s going to cross-examine me about Ivor.”
“He won’t want to.”
“How do you know? Are you certain?”
“Quite certain,” Rendell replied. “He’s afraid that
He broke off.
“Well, but—
“I was going to say that, frankly, to live with Marsden in a cottage isn’t going to be too easy.”
“I know that. But there might be a child.”
She rose and began to wander about the room. Some minutes passed, then she paused near him and asked:
“You know I met Rosalie Vivian?”
“Yes. Why did you mention her?”
“Oh, I don’t know. She’s very lovely.”
Then, after a pause, she added:
“You think she’s lovely, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’d give anything to have her beauty. It’s power, and I worship power as only the weak can worship it. Will you see her again?”
“I’m joining her in Italy soon.”
She turned quickly to him.
“You’re—you’re joining her in Italy?”
“Yes, why?”
“Oh nothing! Then, you’re very fond of her?”
“Yes.”
She began to wander about the room again.
At last Rendell said he thought he had better go. He rose and she came over to him.
“You’re
“Quite certain. I will bring you that statement lo-morrow.”
“No, seal it, and drop it through the letter-box. I—I can’t see you again after to-night.”
“Very well. And I’ll tell Marsden.”
She went to the hall with him, waited while he put on his overcoat, then took his hands impulsively.
“You’ve saved me. You know that?”
“Oh well——”
“Yes, you have. And, somehow, I don’t mind what you know about me. I could tell you everything.”
She leaned down, kissed his hand, then ran back into the sitting-room, leaving the door open.
Rendell hesitated, then went out and down into the street.
Two days later Rendell was alone.
As he had anticipated, the interview with Frazer was brief and conclusive. A hint that he had blackmailed Vera—a suggestion as to possible consequences—so frightened the Captain that he wrote a statement at Rendell’s dictation and signed it. The only difficulty was to convince him that, having done so, he had nothing to fear.
Rendell was back in London by six o’clock, and went straight to his room, where he found Marsden waiting for him. The latter, however, left directly he learned that Vera’s answer was favourable.
Rendell did not see him again. Marsden gave up his room the following day and went to the country—without saying good-bye, and without leaving a message.
At first this lack of courtesy puzzled Rendell, but eventually it made him appreciate the subtle demands of Marsden’s vanity.
It had been necessary to state his position before asking Vera to marry him, but this he had been unable to do in person. To stand revealed on the background of the facts was too humiliating. He wanted to dominate Vera, not to plead with her. He wanted her to regard him as he would like to have been, not as he was. But to tell the truth about himself was not the only indignity which menaced him. A darker shadow gloomed across his imagination—she might refuse him. Marsden winced at the possibility of hearing himself rejected.