The Lost Girl Part 63

She saw the light in his eyes fix determinedly, and he nodded.

"Now!" he said. "Now!"

His yellow-tawny eyes looked down into hers, alien and overbearing.

"I can't," she struggled. "I can't now."

He laughed in a sinister way: yet with a certain warmheartedness.

"Come to that big room--" he said.

Her face flew fixed into opposition.

"I can't now, really," she said grimly.

His eyes looked down at hers. Her eyes looked back at him, hard and cold and determined. They remained motionless for some seconds.

Then, a stray wisp of her hair catching his attention, desire filled his heart, warm and full, obliterating his anger in the combat. For a moment he softened. He saw her hardness becoming more a.s.sertive, and he wavered in sudden dislike, and almost dropped her. Then again the desire flushed his heart, his smile became reckless of her, and he picked her right up.

"Yes," he said. "Now."

For a second, she struggled frenziedly. But almost instantly she recognized how much stronger he was, and she was still, mute and motionless with anger. White, and mute, and motionless, she was taken to her room. And at the back of her mind all the time she wondered at his deliberate recklessness of her. Recklessly, he had his will of her--but deliberately, and thoroughly, not rus.h.i.+ng to the issue, but taking everything he wanted of her, progressively, and fully, leaving her stark, with nothing, nothing of herself--nothing.

When she could lie still she turned away from him, still mute. And he lay with his arms over her, motionless. Noises went on, in the street, overhead in the work-room. But theirs was complete silence.

At last he rose and looked at her.

"Love is a fine thing, Allaye," he said.

She lay mute and unmoving. He approached, laid his hand on her breast, and kissed her.

"Love," he said, a.s.serting, and laughing.

But still she was completely mute and motionless. He threw bedclothes over her and went downstairs, whistling softly.

She knew she would have to break her own trance of obstinacy. So she snuggled down into the bedclothes, s.h.i.+vering deliciously, for her skin had become chilled. She didn't care a bit, really, about her own downfall. She snuggled deliciously in the sheets, and admitted to herself that she loved him. In truth, she loved him--and she was laughing to herself.

Luxuriously, she resented having to get up and tackle her heap of broken garments. But she did it. She took other clothes, adjusted her hair, tied on her ap.r.o.n, and went downstairs once more. She could not find Ciccio: he had gone out. A stray cat darted from the scullery, and broke a plate in her leap. Alvina found her was.h.i.+ng-up water cold. She put on more, and began to dry her dishes.

Ciccio returned shortly, and stood in the doorway looking at her.

She turned to him, unexpectedly laughing.

"What do you think of yourself?" she laughed.

"Well," he said, with a little nod, and a furtive look of triumph about him, evasive. He went past her and into the room. Her inside burned with love for him: so elusive, so beautiful, in his silent pa.s.sing out of her sight. She wiped her dishes happily. Why was she so absurdly happy, she asked herself? And why did she still fight so hard against the sense of his dark, unseizable beauty? Unseizable, for ever unseizable! That made her almost his slave. She fought against her own desire to fall at his feet. Ridiculous to be so happy.

She sang to herself as she went about her work downstairs. Then she went upstairs, to do the bedrooms and pack her bag. At ten o'clock she was to go to the family lawyer.

She lingered over her possessions: what to take, and what not to take. And so doing she wasted her time. It was already ten o'clock when she hurried downstairs. He was sitting quite still, waiting. He looked up at her.

"Now I must hurry," she said. "I don't think I shall be more than an hour."

He put on his hat and went out with her.

"I shall tell the lawyer I am engaged to you. Shall I?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Tell him what you like." He was indifferent.

"Because," said Alvina gaily, "we can please ourselves what we do, whatever we say. I shall say we think of getting married in the summer, when we know each other better, and going to Italy."

"Why shall you say all that?" said Ciccio.

"Because I shall _have_ to give some account of myself, or they'll make me do something I don't want to do. You might come to the lawyer's with me, will you? He's an awfully nice old man. Then he'd believe in you."

But Ciccio shook his head.

"No," he said. "I shan't go. He doesn't want to see _me_."

"Well, if you don't want to. But I remember your name, Francesco Marasca, and I remember Pescocalascio."

Ciccio heard in silence, as they walked the half-empty, Monday-morning street of Woodhouse. People kept nodding to Alvina.

Some hurried inquisitively across to speak to her and look at Ciccio. Ciccio however stood aside and turned his back.

"Oh yes," Alvina said. "I am staying with friends, here and there, for a few weeks. No, I don't know when I shall be back. Good-bye!"

"You're looking well, Alvina," people said to her. "I think you're looking wonderful. A change does you good."

"It does, doesn't it," said Alvina brightly. And she was pleased she was looking well.

"Well, good-bye for a minute," she said, glancing smiling into his eyes and nodding to him, as she left him at the gate of the lawyer's house, by the ivy-covered wall.

The lawyer was a little man, all grey. Alvina had known him since she was a child: but rather as an official than an individual. She arrived all smiling in his room. He sat down and scrutinized her sharply, officially, before beginning.

"Well, Miss Houghton, and what news have you?"

"I don't think I've any, Mr. Beeby. I came to you for news."

"Ah!" said the lawyer, and he fingered a paper-weight that covered a pile of papers. "I'm afraid there is nothing very pleasant, unfortunately. And nothing very unpleasant either, for that matter."

He gave her a shrewd little smile.

"Is the will proved?"

"Not yet. But I expect it will be through in a few days' time."

"And are all the claims in?"