December Love Part 37

The man was perpetually defying the decencies and delicacies which were as perfume in Braybrooke's nostrils.

"The doctors say that it is an excellent thing to open the pores," said Braybrooke discreetly.

Garstin cast a glance at him, as if he now saw him for the first time.

"Do you mean to tell us you believe in doctors?" he said.

"I do, in some doctors," said Braybrooke. "There are charlatans in all professions unfortunately."

"And some of them are R.A.'s," said Miss Van Tuyn. "By the way, d.i.c.k is going to paint me."

"Really! How very splendid!" said Braybrooke, again with exaggerated cordiality. "With such a subject I'm sure--"

But here he was interrupted by Garstin, who said:

"She tells everyone I'm going to paint her because she hopes by reiteration to force me to do it. But she isn't the type that interests me."

"My dear d.i.c.k, I'll gladly take to morphia or drink if it will help,"

said Miss Van Tuyn. "I can easily get the Cafe Royal expression. One has only to sit with a gla.s.s of something the colour of absinthe in front of one and look sea-sick. I'm perfectly certain that with a week or two's practice I could look quite as degraded as Cora."

"Cora?" said Braybrooke, alertly, hearing a name he did not know.

"She's a horror who goes to the Cafe Royal and whom d.i.c.k calls a free woman."

"Free from all the virtues, I suppose!" said Braybrooke smartly.

"Good-bye both of you!" said Garstin at this juncture.

"But we haven't got to the Marble Arch!"

"What's that got to do with it? I'm off."

He seemed to be going, then stopped, and directed the two pin-points of light at Miss Van Tuyn.

"I flatly refuse to make an Academy portrait of you, so don't hope for it," he said. "But if you come along to the studio to-morrow afternoon you may possibly find me at work on a blackmailer."

"d.i.c.k!" said Miss Van Tuyn, in a voice which startled Braybrooke.

"I don't promise," said the painter. "I don't believe in promises, unless you break 'em. But it's just on the cards."

"You are painting a blackmailer!" said Braybrooke, with an air of earnest interest. "How very original!"

"Original! Why is it original to paint a blackmailer?"

"Oh--well, one doesn't often run across them. They--they seem to keep so much to themselves."

"I don't agree with you. If they did some people would be a good deal better off than they are now."

"Ah, to be sure! That's very true. I had never looked at it in that light."

"What time, d.i.c.k?" said Miss Van Tuyn, rather eagerly.

"You might look in about three."

"I will. That's a bargain."

Garstin turned on his heel and tramped away towards Berkeley Street.

"You are going home by Park Lane?" said Braybrooke, feeling greatly relieved, but still rather upset.

"Yes. But why don't you take me somewhere to tea?"

"Nothing I should like better. Where shall we go?"

"Let's go to the Ritz. I had meant to walk, but let us take a taxi."

There was suddenly a change in Miss Van Tuyn. Braybrooke noticed it at once. She seemed suddenly restless, almost excited, and as if she were in a hurry.

"There's one!" she added, lifting her tightly furled umbrella.

The driver stopped, and in a moment they were on their way to the Ritz.

"You like d.i.c.k Garstin?" said Braybrooke, pulling up one of the windows and wondering what Miss Cronin would say if she could see him at this moment.

"I don't like him," returned Miss Van Tuyn. "No one could do that. But I admire him, and he interests me. He is almost the only man I know who is really indifferent to opinion. And he has occasional moments of good nature. But I don't wish him to be soft. If he were he would be like everyone else."

"I must confess I find it very difficult to get on with him."

"He's a wonderful painter."

"No doubt--in his way."

"I think it a great mistake for any creative artist to be wonderful in someone else's way," said Miss Van Tuyn.

"I only meant that his way is sometimes rather startling. And then his subjects! Drugged women! Dram drinking men! And now it seems even blackmailers."

"A blackmailer might have a wonderful face."

"Possibly. But it would be likely to have a disgusting expression."

"It might. On the other hand, I could imagine a blackmailer looking like Chaliapine as Mephistopheles."

"I don't like distressing art," said Braybrooke, rather firmly. "And I think there is too much of it nowadays."

"Anything is better than the merely nice. And you have far too much of that in England. Men like d.i.c.k Garstin are a violent protest against that, and sometimes they go to extremes. He has caught the secret of evil, and when he has done with it he may quite possibly catch the secret of good."

"And then," said Braybrooke, "I am sure he will paint you."

It was meant to be a very charmingly turned compliment. But Miss Van Tuyn received it rather doubtfully.