The Great Amulet Part 65

"And do you propose to tell him outright that he has been here long enough?"

"What I propose to say to him is my own affair. You needn't distress yourself on his account. d.i.c.k and I understand one another perfectly."

"No doubt you do. But after all, I am his hostess, and though you may not object to being flagrantly inhospitable, _I_ do--very strongly.

Besides, why should you be in such a hurry to turn him out? Are you annoyed again because we happen to be good friends and enjoy one another's society? I thought you were above that sort of thing."

The suggestion of scorn in her tone p.r.i.c.ked him past endurance. He turned upon her sharply; and his eyes took on their blue of steel.

"I am not above the natural pa.s.sions of the natural man. You may as well know it first as last. And I do not choose that d.i.c.k and half the men of the station shall practically live in my house because I happen to possess a very attractive wife."

"In fact, you imply that the attractive wife is bound over not to go beyond correct plat.i.tudes with any of them but you. Is that it?" she demanded, the red of rebellion staining her cheeks.

The man was sore rather than angry; and the least touch of tenderness or hesitancy would have melted him to generous contrition. But her manner hardened him, and he set his teeth.

"I imply nothing of the sort; and you know it. It would never occur to me to set limits, general or particular, on your conduct with other men; and as for your intimacy with d.i.c.k, if I didn't believe in you both absolutely I wouldn't live with you another week. But I want to make it clear to you that, having accepted the fact of marriage, you cannot in reason be as independent and daringly unconventional in your dealings with men as you were when you had no one to consider but yourself. I know India better than you do. We live in gla.s.s houses out here: and I know the sort of remarks that are made about a young married woman who is never seen without half a dozen men at her heels . . ."

"But, my dear man," she broke out impatiently, "who cares one grain of dust what their remarks may be? Men are my natural-born companions.

Always have been. Always will be. And it's no use asking me to cramp and distort my whole nature because bourgeois people take a low view of the matter."

"No use, is it? That's pretty strong, Quita. Not that I _am_ asking anything of the kind: only that you should show some small consideration for my point of view; that you should make some effort to adapt yourself to a new relation."

"I _do_ make an effort, Eldred," she answered unappeased. "But individuality and temperament are stubborn things, even in a woman; and I can't sacrifice mine because I happen to be your wife. Marriage doesn't change one into an invertebrate creature of wax and pack-thread to be moulded or pushed into any shape a man pleases; especially if one happens to be an artist as well as a woman. We have our own devils inside us; our own minds and bodies as well as you. It wouldn't be the least use my promising to walk discreetly and weigh my words and actions; because I shouldn't keep the promise for five minutes.

Besides . . ." Returning steps sounded without, and Lenox held up his hand.

"That's enough," he said decisively. "Here's d.i.c.k. You're simply telling me, in roundabout language, that you intend to take the bit between your teeth. Well, I intend to keep a firm hold on the reins for your sake as much as my own."

She flushed hotly.

"_Mon Dieu_, what a detestable similie!"

"Quite so. But it expresses the position. If you will make it a case of mastery, what else can a man do?"

And as Richardson entered from the dining-room, Lenox went out; by way of the verandah into his study.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

"When the fight begins within himself, The man's worth something."

--Browning.

Lenox, back at his writing-table, automatically took up his pen. But five minutes later he still sat thus, looking straight ahead of him into a future darkened by the encroaching shadow of opium, and complicated by this new factor of open discord, which--apart from the pain of finding division, where he had looked for unity--set all his nerves on edge.

Hitherto, his distaste for friction, coupled with an almost unlimited power of endurance, had inclined him to let matters slide. But now his conscience--the accusing, spiritual thing that was himself--warned him that if marriage meant compromise, it also meant responsibility; that having been goaded into decisive speech, he stood pledged to decisive action, for her sake, even more than for his own. Yet, at the moment, he felt physically and mentally unfit to grapple with the complex situation, hampered as he was by the experience of all that may spring from one false move, one instant of unguarded speech; and the knowledge that his insight, his judgment, were clouded by the insomnia, grinding headache, and renewed wrestling with a power stronger than his will.

For there was no evading the truth, that, in the past weeks, the drug had gained fresh hold upon him; had resuscitated the old paralysing pessimism and dread of defeat, so that he asked himself bitterly what right had he to sit in judgment upon any one, least of all upon the dear woman who was the core and mainspring of his life?

Yet, fit or unfit, the need for action, for the rightful a.s.sertion of authority, remained. He laid down his pen, planted an elbow on the table, and covered his eyes; struggling for clear unprejudiced thought; tormented by the consciousness of a certain small box hidden away in a locked drawer within easy reach of his hand.

Suddenly he sat upright. The lines of his face hardened; a cold moisture broke out upon his forehead; and the desperate look in his eyes was an ill thing to see. Yet his movements had a strange mechanical deliberation, as he opened the drawer, found the box, helped himself from its contents, and, locking it up again, leaned back with the long exhausted sigh of a man released from tension.

For several minutes he sat thus, arms folded, eyes closed; yielding himself to the luxury of relief that stole over him, while the great magician plucked the pain from throbbing nerves, unravelled the tangle of thought and feeling, soothed brain and body like the touch of a woman's hand.

But relief, as always, brought revulsion; this time sooner than usual; because for many days he had held his own against the evil thing, and had almost begun to believe himself on the upward grade.

"d.a.m.nation!" he broke out fiercely, and, the key being still in his hand, flung it haphazard right across the room. It fell between a heavy bookcase and the wall; and with a savage laugh of satisfaction, he took up his pen, and began to write rapidly, without pausing to select words or phrases. He tore it all up next morning, but for the time being it served to distract his thoughts.

Presently he heard Quita's voice at the door.

"Eldred, aren't you coming to tea?"

"No," he answered, without looking round.

"Shall I bring you some, then?"

"No, thank you."

He turned his head just in time to catch sight of her as she closed the door; then went on writing with less regard than ever for the matter in hand.

In less than half an hour, Richardson's uneven footstep, betraying the slight limp, sounded without. He paused so long on the other side of the door, that Lenox's brows went up in surprise.

"That you, d.i.c.k?" he called out. "Come along in."

Richardson obeyed; and Lenox removed three or four books from an adjacent chair.

"Sit down, old chap. You've not been in here often enough lately.

Chained to my wife's easel, eh?"

"Partly . . . yes," the other answered, absently fingering some loose sheets of ma.n.u.script and ignoring the proffered chair.

"Wasn't sure, either, if you cared about being interrupted. I came in now to say I thought of dining at mess to-night, and clearing out into my own bungalow to-morrow. You've been uncommonly good to me, you and Mrs Lenox. But I think I've been quartered on you long enough; and I shall probably get back to duty next week."

He spoke rather rapidly, as if to ward off interruption or dissent; and Lenox started at finding the initiative thus taken out of his hands.

It was not Quita's doing. He felt sure of that. But d.i.c.k's manner puzzled him, and mere friendliness made acquiescence impossible.

"Well, you seem in a deuce of a hurry to be quit of us," he said, with a short laugh. "Might as well stop till you do get back to duty; and you might as well sit down and have a smoke, now you're here, instead of standing there like a confounded subordinate, making havoc of my papers!"

At that Richardson sat down rather abruptly, and helped himself from his friend's cigar-case. He had small talent and less taste for subterfuge; and, his pulses being in an awkward state of commotion, he took his time over the beheading and lighting of his cigar. In fact he took so long that Lenox spoke again.

"What do you suppose my wife will say to your bolting in this way, at a moment's notice! Have you spoken to her yet?"

"No. I was afraid of seeming . . . ungracious; and one could speak straighter to you."

"Does that mean you really won't stop on?"

"I think not, thanks. It's awfully good of you to suggest it. I can look in, of course, if Mrs Lenox wants any more sittings. But I may as well stick to my arrangement and go before she gets sick of having me on her hands."