(1941) Up at the Villa (10 page)

`That's a good job jobbed. There wasn't a soul in sight.
You know, it looks as though chance went out of its way sometimes to give the
criminal a helping hand. There was a little bit of a trickle of water just at
the right place. I suppose there's a spring there and that's why there's all
that undergrowth. I dropped the gun in it. In a few days it ought to be in a
nice state' She wanted to ask him about the body, but could not bring herself
to speak the words. They sat for a while in silence while he indolently smoked
and with enjoyment sipped his cold drink.

`I should like to tell you exactly what happened last
night,' she said at last.

`You need not. I can guess the essentials and the rest
doesn't much matter, does it?’

`But I want to. I want you to know the worst of me. I
don't really know why that poor boy killed
himself
.
I'm tortured with remorse.’

He listened without a word, his eyes, cool and shrewd,
fixed on her, while she told him word for word all that had passed between her
first
sight
of Karl, when he had stepped out of the
shadow of the cypress, till the dreadful moment when the sound of the shot had
startled her out of bed. Some of it was very difficult to tell, but with those
steady grey eyes upon her she had an inkling that he would at once know if she
concealed any part of the truth; it relieved her also to tell the story in all
its shame. When she finished he leaned back in his chair and seemed intent on
the smoke rings he was making with his cigarette.

`I think I can tell you why he killed himself,' he said
at last.

`He was homeless, outcast, penniless and half-starved. He
hadn't got much to live for, had he? And then you came. I don't suppose he'd
ever seen such a beautiful woman in his life. You gave him something that in
his wildest dream he could never have dreamt of. Suddenly the whole world was
changed because you loved him. How could you expect him to guess that it wasn't
love that had made you give yourself to him? You told him it was only pity.
Mary, my dear, men are vain, especially very young men: did you never know
that? It was an intolerable humiliation. No wonder he nearly killed you. You'd
raised him to the stars and then you flung him back to the gutter. He was like
a prisoner whose jailers lead him to the door of his prison and just as he is
about to step out to freedom, slam it in his face. Wasn't that enough to decide
him that life wasn't worth living?’

`If that's true I can never forgive myself.’

`I think it's true, but I don't think it's the whole
truth. You see, he was unbalanced by all he'd gone through before, perhaps he
wasn't quite sane, it may be that there was something else: it may be that you
had given him a few moments of such ecstasy that he thought life after that
could have nothing better to offer and so was willing to call it a day. You
know, most of us have had moments in our lives when our happiness was so
complete that we've said to ourselves: "O God, if I could only die
novel "
Well, he'd had that moment and that feeling,
and he died.’

Mary looked at Rowley with amazement. Was it really he,
the mocking, happy-go-lucky, reckless tough, who said such things! This was a
Rowley that she had never known existed.

`Why do you say that to me?’

`Well, partly because I want you not to take it all too much
to heart. There's nothing you can do about it now. The only thing is to forget,
and perhaps what I've just told you will enable you to forget without misgiving.’

He gave her the derisive smile which she knew so well.

`And partly because I've had several drinks and perhaps
I'm a little
She
did not answer. She handed him the
telegram she had received from Edgar. He read it.

`Are you going to marry him?’

`I want to get away from here. I hate this house now.
When I go into my room it's all I can do not to scream with horror.’

`And India's a long way off.’

`He has strength and character. He loves me. You see,
Rowley, I've been taken down a peg or two. I want someone to take care of me. I
want someone I can look up to.

`Well, that settles that, doesn't it?' She was not quite
sure what he meant. She gave him a glance, but he was looking at her with
smiling eyes which betrayed nothing. She gave a faint sigh.

`But of course he may not want to marry me.’

`What the devil are you talking about now? He's crazy
about you.’

`I must tell him, Rowley.’

`Why?' he cried, aghast.

`I couldn't marry him with this thing hanging over me. It
would be on my conscience. I should never have a minute's peace.’

`Your peace?
What about his
peace? D'you
think
he'll thank you for telling him? I
tell you everything's all right. Nothing can ever connect you now with the
death of that wretched fellow.’

`I must be honest' He frowned.

`You're making a terrible mistake. I know these
Empire-builders.
The soul of integrity and all that.
What do they know of indulgence? They've never had need of it themselves. It's
madness to destroy his trust in you. He dotes on you. He thinks you perfect.’

`What is the good of that if I'm not?’

`Don't you think the better people think you are the
better you're liable to become? You know, he's got many excellent qualities,
your Edgar; they've got him where he is. But if you don't mind my saying so,
he's got a certain obstinate stupidity; and that also has helped him. Without
it he wouldn't be the big noise he is. You're asking something right out of his
line when you're asking him to understand the labyrinth of a woman's
sensibility.’

`If he loves me enough he will.’

`Very well, my dear, have it your own way. He's not the
sort of cove I should want to marry if I were a woman, but if you've set your
heart on him I suppose you must. But if you want to make a good job of it, take
my advice and - emulate the clam.’

He gave a little chuckle, touched her hand lightly and
with his jaunty step strolled away. The thought occurred to her that she might
possibly never see him again. It gave her a slight pang. Funny he should have
asked her to marry him. She had to smile at his dismay if she had taken him
seriously and said she would.

8

IT was about four next afternoon when Nina came out to
Mary, again sitting in the garden and seeking to distract her mind by working
on a piece of tapestry, and told her that Edgar Swift was on the telephone. He
had just arrived at his hotel and wanted to know if he could see Mary. She had
not known at what time his plane would get in, and had been waiting for him
since luncheon. She sent the message that she would be glad to see him whenever
he cared to come. Her heart began to beat a trifle hurriedly. She took out her
looking-glass from her bag and looked at herself. She was pale, but she did not
put on any rouge, since she knew he did not much like it; she dabbed the
powder-puff over her face and painted her lips. She was wearing a light summer
dress, of yellow
linen
with a wallpaper design; it
looked so simple that you would have thought a housemaid might have worn it,
but it had been made by the best dressmaker in Paris. Presently she heard the
car drive up and a moment or two later Edgar appeared. She got up from her
chair and advanced to greet him. As usual he was dressed perfectly as became
his age and station. It was a pleasure to look at him as he strode along the
strip of lawn; he was so tall and slim; he held himself so erect. He had
removed his hat: his thick black hair shone with the oil he had put on to keep
its wave set. His fine blue eyes below the thick eyebrows wore a friendly
gleam; his
fine, spare features no longer had the sternness
which was his habitual expression, but were
softened by a happy smile.
He warmly clasped her hand.

`How cool and fresh you look, and as pretty as a picture.’

Mr. Atkinson had used that hackneyed phrase every time he
saw her.
Mary,
faintly tickled to hear it from Edgar,
sup.
posed
it was what gentlemen of a certain age
always said to women much younger than themselves.

`Sit down and Nina will bring us some tea. Did you have a
nice trip?’

`I'm so very glad to see you again,' he said.

`It seems a century since I went away.’

`It hasn't been very long.’

`Luckily.
I knew exactly what
you'd be doing all the time. I knew where you'd be at such and such an hour and
I followed you from place to place with my thoughts.’

Mary faintly smiled.

`I should have thought you were much too busy.’

`I was busy, of course; I had a couple of long talks with
my Minister and I think we've settled everything. I'm to sail at the beginning
of September. He was very decent to me. He didn't conceal from me that it was a
difficult job, though of course I knew that when I accepted it, but he said
that was why they wanted me. I don't want to bore you with the compliments he
paid me, but...’

`I want to hear. I shan't be bored’

`Well, he said that owing to the particular
circumstances, it was important to put a man there who was conciliatory and at
the same time firm, and he was good enough to say that he knew no one who
combined those qualities to so high a degree as I do.’

`I'm sure he was right’

`Anyhow it was very flattering. You see, Ire had a long
fight and it's satisfactory to find oneself pretty near the top of the tree at
last. It's a big job and an important one. It'll give me a chance to show what
I can do, and between you and me and the gatepost, I think I can do a great
deal.’

He hesitated for an instant '
And
if I do as well as I hope, and as they hope, it may lead to even higher things.’

`You're very ambitious, aren't you?’

`I suppose I am. I like power and I'm not afraid of
responsibility. I have certain gifts, and I'm glad of the opportunity to make
the most of them.’

`There was a Colonel Trail at dinner the other night. He
said that if you made a success in Bengal, there was no reason why you
shouldn't become Viceroy.’

A gleam came into Edgar's bold eyes.

`Governor-General, they call him now. I imagine that's
within the bounds of possibility. They made Willingdon Viceroy, and a damned
good Viceroy he was.’

They had finished tea and he put down his cup.

`You know, Mary, that the pleasure with which I'm looking
forward to all this activity, and the honour that's attached to it, wouldn't
mean half so much to me if I weren't hoping that you'd share it with me.’

Her heart stood still. The moment had come. To calm
herself she lit a cigarette. She did not look at him, but she felt that his
eyes, tenderly smiling, were fixed upon her.

`You promised to give me my answer when I came back.’

He chuckled.

`The fact that I chartered a plane this morning to fly
over here is proof that I'm impatient to have it. She threw away the cigarette
she had just lit. She gave a little sigh.

`Before we go any further I've got something to tell you.
Tin.
afraid
it'll bitterly distress you. Please listen
to me without saying anything. Anything you've got to say, any questions you've
got to ask me, you can say later.’

His face on a sudden hardened and he looked at her
sharply.

`I'll say nothing.’

`I don't have to tell you that I'd give anything in the
world to hold my tongue, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be honest. You must know
the facts and then do what you think fit.’

`I'm listening.’

Once again she told the long painful story which the day
before she had told Rowley. She omitted nothing. She tried neither to
exaggerate nor to minimize. But it was harder to tell it to Edgar. He listened
without a movement. His face was set and stem. No flicker in his eyes showed
what he was thinking. She was conscious as she spoke that her behaviour seemed
more senseless and wanton than it had done when she was telling Rowley what had
happened. She found it impossible to give her motives even a plausible air,
some of the incidents appeared incredible and her heart sank as she imagined
that perhaps he
was not believing
her. And now she
realized that there was something peculiarly shocking in Rowley and her having
placed the body in a car and taken it to hide in a sequestered spot in the
hills. She still didn't know what else she could have done to avoid a fearful
scandal and heaven only knew what difficulties with the police. But it was so
fantastic that anything like that should happen to people like her that it
didn't seem to belong to real life; it was the kind of thing that happened to
one in a nightmare. At last she finished. Edgar sat quite still for a little
while without saying a word, then he got up and began to pace to and fro across
the green patch. His head was bent, he had his hands clasped behind his back,
and on his face was a dark, sullen look that she had never seen on it before.
He looked strangely older. At last he stopped still in front of her. He looked
down at her and there was a painful smile on his lips, but his voice was so
tender that it wrung her heart.

`You must forgive me if I'm rather taken aback. You see,
you're the last woman I should ever have expected to do anything like this. I
knew you when you were the most innocent, charming child; it seems incredible
that you of all people...’

He stopped, but she knew what he had in mind; it seemed
incredible that she of all people should have become the mistress of a casual
vagabond.

`I have no excuses to make for myself.’

`I'm afraid I think you've been very foolish.’

`Worse.’

`We need not go into that. I think I love you enough to
understand and to forgive.’