Vision House Part 43

"I'm not doing that," Marise said. "We've all been horrid and detestable in this business, you and I, and even poor Mums--for my sake----"

"What about Garth? Is he on a higher plane?"

"Yes, he _is_!" exclaimed the girl. "He loved me once. He wanted to marry me then--just for love. How he felt afterwards--or how he feels now--I don't know. But--he's not a _beast_."

"And I am?"

"Oh, I put myself and Mums in the same box with you. I'm saying nothing of you I don't say of ourselves."

"Well, so be it!" said Severance. "I'm a beast, if you like, and you're the female of my kind. All the more reason why you belong to me. Nothing shall separate us again. Even if we can't marry----"

"Let me go out of this room!" the girl cried sharply.

"No! Your _mother_ approved of my plan, I tell you, Marise. She saw it was the only way, for me to take you----"

"I don't believe it! There's not an unconventional drop of blood in Mums' veins. If she wanted me to be 'taken' anywhere, it would be to her. She would have come to this hotel, and received me. Then, perhaps, I would have stayed--but not for you. I don't _love_ you, Tony! I've discovered that. I wouldn't marry you if I could."

"You're out of your senses!" he cried. "You may think what you say at this minute, because you're angry. But your _heart's_ mine. I won't let you go----"

"If you don't, I'll scream," threatened Marise. "Open that door at once, or I'll yell at the top of my lungs."

"I don't think you will," said Severance. "You don't like scenes, except on the stage. Besides, I don't care a d.a.m.n if you do yell. It won't change things in the end."

The girl's answer was to lift her voice and shriek as only a trained actress can shriek.

Instantly, before she had reached her highest note, Garth stepped over the low window-sill.

"I was waiting for that," he said. "I knew you were here, Marise, so I lurked on the loggia. Unlock that door, Severance."

The other man was olive grey with rage and disappointment. It occurred to Marise that he looked seasick.

"Unlock the d.a.m.ned thing yourself!" he spat, and flung the key on the floor.

It landed near Garth's feet. But Garth did not stoop.

"Pick up the key," he said quietly.

"I'm d.a.m.ned if I will!" sputtered Severance.

"Not so many d.a.m.ns, please," said Garth. "They bore me." He took a Browning from his pocket and aimed it neatly at the centre of Severance's forehead. "Better pick up the key," he added.

Severance picked it up.

"Now unlock the door."

Severance unlocked it, and walked out into the hall. Then he slammed the door after him. Voices were heard.

"Somebody's come to inquire why somebody screamed," said Garth, pocketing the weapon again. "If they knock here, it's all right. Mr. and Mrs. Garth have a right to a _tete-a-tete_ anywhere. I'll say you thought you saw a mouse. That'll settle their doubts forever."

But n.o.body knocked.

"Don't be afraid," Garth went on. "Even if you came in here because you wanted to come, I shan't make a row. But somehow I've got a 'hunch' that you didn't want to."

"I didn't," said Marise.

"He pulled you in?"

"Yes. I didn't think much of it at first. But----"

"Well, I don't believe he'll trouble you again. Not ever. I felt he might make a fool of himself to-night, though. So I came over, in case I should be needed. Now, what do you want to do--I mean, _really_ want? I consider Severance wiped off the map--_your_ map. So if you wish to be free of me, I'll make you so. While Severance was in the offing I'd have stuck to you like a leech, because you're too good for him. That Browning wasn't loaded. But I'd have killed the fellow sooner than give you up to him. It's different now. I'll take you to Los Angeles, to your mother at Bell Towers to-night if you like."

Marise was silent.

"You've only got to say," he prompted her.

To his intense surprise and her own, Marise began to cry. Tears poured down her cheeks. She flung herself on a sofa and sobbed. "I'm so--so unhappy!"

Garth's face grew slowly red as he looked at her. "I'm sorry for that,"

he said. "Once I was willing you should be unhappy. I'm past that now.

But you needn't be unhappy long. You don't even have to spend another night in Vision House. Your mother----"

"You want me to go," gulped Marise. "You really love Zelie Marks----"

"You're talking in your hat," he sharply cut her short. "You know I don't love Zelie Marks. What Severance said about her and me to-day was disgusting. She and I are friends. She's a good girl and a grand pal. I wouldn't hurt her even for you. And I tell you this, Marise, now that I know--for I do know!--that you won't marry that cad Severance, you can divorce me. But it will have to be done decently. You can go to Reno and live there for a few months with Mrs. Sorel. Then you can free yourself on the grounds that our tempers are incompatible. But no woman's to be lugged in, even a stranger. I won't stand for that. For the sake of Mothereen and my Victoria Cross I won't be dragged in the dirt. I'll not give you what the lawyers call 'cause.' So there you are. Now you know."

But Marise still sobbed. "I don't--don't wish to drag anyone in the dust!" she wailed.

"I'm sure you don't," said Garth, in an impersonal tone, a tone of kind encouragement. "You've changed quite a lot since New York, though the time's been short. You can't measure these things by time! I _hoped_ you'd change. You were an adorable girl, but I told you once that you were spoiled and selfish, and you were--all of that. You weren't a woman. Now you are. I counted a bit on the effect of Mothereen. And I counted a whole lot on the Canyon. They're both worked their spells more or less, I shouldn't wonder. But you haven't changed to _me_. Not that I ever really dared expect that. But I sort of _hoped_--at first. I'm not blaming you, though. I took the risk--and let you take it. Now for the next thing."

"Now for--the next thing!" repeated Marise, between sobs; and searched wildly in her gold-mesh bag. "For Heaven's sake lend me a handkerchief,"

she wept.

Garth lent it, a linen one, not scented as Severance's handkerchief would have been, but fresh and clean-smelling.

"We're still in that cad's room," Garth said, looking round with a frown. "But he won't bother us. And we'd better thrash things out, now we're about it. We must decide where you're to go. You know, Marise, I'm on long leave. I never quite made up my mind whether to go back to my regiment, or chuck the army for good, and stay over here. I thought some day I'd hear a clear call, one way or the other, while there was time to decide. And I knew Mothereen wouldn't long be far off from me, whatever I did. But now I leave it to you to settle the matter for me. I expect I owe you that, for all my sulkiness. If you want to live over on this side, I'll go back to England--my father's country. If you'd like to take up your career there again, rather than you should risk running up against me all the time, I'll resign my commission--as Severance and a lot of fellows like him hoped they could make me do!--settle down in Arizona and--forget the war."

"Forget me, you mean!" said Marise.

His tone changed, and he spoke in a lower voice. "I don't expect ever to forget you, Marise."

"But you'd like to!"

"I'm not so sure of that, in spite of all."

"You will be, when you marry Zelie Marks."

"Zelie Marks again!"