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Revelations of a Wife Part 43

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I sprang out of bed before she could prevent me, and gave her a regular "bear hug."

"Help me dress!" I exclaimed indignantly. "Indeed, you will do no such thing. I feel as strong as ever, and I am going to put you to bed before I go to d.i.c.ky. But tell me, how is--"

She spared me from speaking the name I so dreaded.

"Miss Draper is no worse. Indeed, Dr. Pett.i.t thinks she has rallied slightly this morning. She is resting easily now, has been since about 3 o'clock, when Dr. Pett.i.t went home."

I was hurrying into my clothes as she talked. "Have you found out yet how it happened?" I asked.

"I know what Harry does," she answered. "He says that yesterday the girl appeared as calm, even cheerful, as ever, went with him to the manager's office, performed her dancing stunt as cleverly as she did the other night, and in response to the very good offer the manager made her, asked for a day to consider it. As she was leaving the office, she asked Harry if d.i.c.ky were in his studio, saying she had left there something she prized highly and would like to get it.

Something in the way she said it made Harry suspicious. Of course, I had told him confidentially of her attempt to drown you, so he remarked nonchalantly that he was also going to the studio. He said she seemed nonplussed for a moment, then coolly accepted his escort.

"They went to the studio, and Harry stuck close to d.i.c.ky, never permitting the Draper girl to be alone with him for a minute. After a few moments she bade them a commonplace goodby and left, but she must have stayed near by and cleverly shadowed them when they left.

"At any rate, she appeared at the door of our house shortly after Harry and d.i.c.ky had entered--Harry wanted to get some things before coming out to Marvin again--and asked Betty to see d.i.c.ky.

Unfortunately, Harry was in his rooms and did not hear the request, so that d.i.c.ky went into the little sitting room off the hall with her, and Betty says the girl herself closed the door. What was said no one knows but d.i.c.ky and the girl.

"Harry heard a shot, rushed downstairs, and found d.i.c.ky, with the blood flowing from his arm, struggling with the girl in an attempt to keep her from firing another shot. Harry took the revolver away, unloaded and pocketed it, and could have prevented any further tragedy only for d.i.c.ky's growing faint from loss of blood.

"Harry turned his attention to d.i.c.ky, and the girl picked up a stiletto, which Harry uses for a paper cutter--you know he has the house filled with all sorts of curios from all over the world--and drove it into her left breast. She aimed for her heart, of course, and she almost turned the trick. I imagine she has a pretty good chance of pulling through if infection doesn't develop. The stiletto hadn't been used for some time, and there were several small rust spots on it. But here comes your breakfast."

Her voice had been absolutely emotionless as she told me the story. As she busied herself with setting out attractively on a small table the delicious breakfast Katie had brought, I had a queer idea that if it were not for the publicity that would inevitably follow, Lillian would not very much regret the ultimate success of Grace Draper's attempt at self-destruction.

XXIX

"BUT YOU WILL NEVER KNOW--"

I do not believe that ever in my life can I again have an experience so horrible as that which followed the development of infection in the dagger wound which Grace Draper had inflicted upon herself after her unsuccessful attempt to shoot d.i.c.ky.

Against the combined protest of d.i.c.ky and Lillian, I shared the care of the girl with the trained nurse whom Lillian's forethought had provided and d.i.c.ky's money had paid for.

The reason for my presence at her bedside was a curious one.

At the close of the third day following the girl's attempt at murder and self-destruction, Lillian came to the door of the room where I was reading to d.i.c.ky, who was now almost recovered, and called me out into the hall.

"Madge," she said abruptly, "that poor girl in there has been calling for you for an hour. We tried every way we could think of to quiet her, but nothing else would do. She must see you. I imagine she has made up her mind she's going to die and wants to ask your forgiveness or something of that sort."

"I will go to her at once," I said quietly. As I moved toward the door my knees trembled so I could hardly walk.

Lillian came up to me quickly and put her strong arm around me.

We went down the hall to a wonderful room of ivory and gold, which I knew must be Lillian's guest room. In a big ivory-tinted bed the girl lay, a pitiful wreck of the das.h.i.+ng, insolent figure she had been.

Her face was as white as the pillows upon which she lay, while her hands looked utterly bloodless as they rested listlessly upon the coverlet. Only her eyes held anything of her old spirit. They looked unusually brilliant. I wondered uneasily if their appearance was the result of their contrast to her deathly white face or whether the fever which the doctor dreaded had set in.

She looked at me steadily for a long minute, then spoke huskily--I was surprised at the strength of her voice.

"Of course I have no right to ask anything of you, Mrs. Graham," she said, "but death, you know, always has privileges, and I am going to die."

I saw the nurse glance swiftly, sharply, at her, and then go quietly out of the room.

"She's hurrying to get the doctor," the girl said, with the uncanny intuition of the very sick, "but he can't do me any good. I'm going to die and I know it. And I want you to promise to stay with me until the end comes. I shall probably be unconscious, and not know whether you are here or not, but I know you. You're the kind that if you give a promise you won't break it, and I have a sort of feeling that I'd like to go out holding your hand. Will you promise me that?"

Her eyes looked fiercely, compelling, into mine. I stepped forward and laid my hand on hers, lying so weak on the bed.

"Of course I promise," I said pitifully.

There was a quick, savage gleam in her eyes which I could not fathom, a gleam that vanished as quickly as it came. I told myself that the look I had surprised in her eyes was one of ferocious triumph, and that as my hand touched hers she had instinctively started to draw her hand away from mine, and then yielded it to my grasp.

"All right," she said indifferently, closing her eyes. "Remember now, don't go away."

"d.i.c.ky! d.i.c.ky! what have I done that you are so changed? How can you be so cold to me when you remember all that we have been to each other? Don't be so cruel to me. Kiss me just once, just once, as you used to do."

Over and over again the plaintive words pierced the air of the room where Grace Draper lay, while Dr. Pett.i.t and the nurse battled for her life.

The theme of all her delirious cries and mutterings was d.i.c.ky. She lived over again all the homely little humorous incidents of their long studio a.s.sociation. She went with him upon the little outings which they had taken together, and of which I learned for the first time from her fever-crazed lips.

"Isn't this delicious salad, d.i.c.ky?" she would cry. "What a magnificent view of the ocean you can get from here? Wouldn't Belasco envy that moonlight effect?"

Then more tender memories would obsess her. To me, crouching in my corner, bound by my promise to stay in the room, it seemed a most cruel irony of fate that I should be compelled to listen to this unfolding of my husband's faithlessness to me within so short a time of our tender reconciliation.

I do not think Dr. Pett.i.t knew I was in the room when he first entered it, anxious because of his imperative summons by the nurse. Lillian's guest room had the alcove characteristic of the old-fas.h.i.+oned New York houses, and she and I were seated in that.

The physician bent over the bed, carefully studying the patient.

Through his professional mask I thought I saw a touch of bewilderment.

He studied the girl's pulse and temperature, listened to her breathing, then turned to the nurse sharply.

"How long has she been delirious?"

"Since just after I called you," the girl replied.

"Did you notice anything unusual about her before that? You said something over the telephone about her talking queerly."

The nurse looked quickly over to the alcove where Lillian and I sat. Dr. Pett.i.t's eyes followed her glance. With a quick muttered exclamation he strode swiftly to where we sat and towered angrily above us.

"What does this mean?" he asked imperatively. "Why are you here listening to this stuff? It is abominable."

"I agree with you, Dr. Pett.i.t. It is abominable, but she made Madge promise to stay," Lillian said quietly. She made an almost imperceptible gesture of her head toward the bed, and her voice was full of meaning. He started, looked her steadily in the eyes, then nodded slightly as if a.s.serting some unspoken thought of hers.

"d.i.c.ky darling," the voice from the bed rose pleadingly, "don't you remember how you promised me to take me away from all this, how we planned to go far, far away, where no one would ever find us again?"

Dr. Pett.i.t turned almost savagely on me.

"Promise or no promise," he said, "I will not allow this any longer.

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