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"Yes.... It happened accidentally." And she told him about the old gentleman who had come to her rooms when she stood absolutely penniless and at bay before the world.
After she had ended he asked her whether she had ever again seen his father. She told him. She told him also about seeing his mother.
"Have they anything to say to me, Athalie?" he asked wistfully.
"I don't know, Clive. Some day--when you feel like it--if you will come to me--"
"Thank you, dear ... you are wonderful--wonderfully good--"
"Oh, Clive, I'm not! I'm careless, pleasure-loving, inclined to laziness--and even to dissipation--"
"You!"
"Within certain limits," she added demurely. "I dance a lot: I know I smoke too much and drink too much champagne. I'm no angel, Clive. I won altogether too much at auction last night; ask Jim Allys. And really, if I didn't have a mind and feel a desire to cultivate it, I'd be the limit I suppose." She laughed and tossed her chin; and the pure loveliness of her child-like throat was suddenly and exquisitely revealed.
"I'm too intelligent to go wrong I suppose," she said. "I adore cultivating my mental faculties even more than I like to misbehave."
She added a trifle shyly. "I speak French and Italian and German very nicely. And I sing a little and play acceptably. Please compliment me, Clive."
But her quick smile died out as she looked into his eyes--eyes haunted by the vision of all that he had denied his manhood and this girl's young womanhood--all that he had lost, irretrievably and forever on that day he married another woman.
"What is the matter, Clive?" she asked with sweet concern.
He answered: "Nothing, I guess ... except--you are very--wonderful--to me."
CHAPTER XX
A May afternoon was drawing to a close; the last appointment had been made for the morrow, and the last client for the day still lingered with Athalie where she sat with her head propped thoughtfully on one slim hand, her gaze concentrated on the depths of the crystal sphere.
After a long silence she said: "You need not be anxious. Her wireless apparatus is out of order. They are repairing it.... It was a bad storm."
"Is there any ice near her?"
After a pause: "I can see none."
"Any ships?"
"One of her own line, hull down. They have been exchanging signals....
There seems to be no necessity for her to stand by. The worst is over.... Yes, the _Empress of Borneo_ proceeds. The _Empress of Formosa_ will be reported this evening. You need not be anxious: she'll dock on Monday."
"Are you sure?" said the man as Athalie lifted her eyes from the crystal and smiled rea.s.suringly at him. He was a stocky, red-faced, trim, middle-aged man; but his sanguine visage bore the haggard imprint of sleepless nights, and the edges of his teeth had bitten his under lip raw.
Athalie glanced carelessly at the crystal, then nodded.
"Yes," she said patiently. "I am sure of it, Mr. Clements. The _Empress of Formosa_ will dock on Monday--about--nine in the morning.
She will be reported by wireless from the _Empress of Borneo_ this evening.... They have been relaying it from the Delaware Capes....
There will be an extra edition of the evening papers. You may dismiss all anxiety."
The man rose, stood a moment, his features working with emotion.
"I'm not a praying man," he said. "But if this is so--I'll pray for you.... It can't hurt you anyway--" he checked himself, stammering, and the deep colour stained him from his brow to his thick, powerful neck as he stood fumbling with his portfolio.
But Athalie smilingly put aside the recompense he offered: "It is too much, Mr. Clements."
"It is worth it to the Company--if the news is true--"
"Then wait until your steamer docks."
"But you say you are certain--"
"Yes, I am: but _you_ are not. My refusal of payment will encourage you to confidence in me. You have been ill with anxiety, Mr. Clements.
I know what that means. And now your bruised mind cannot realise that the trouble is ended--that there is no reason now for the deadly fear that has racked you. But everything will help you now--what I have told you--and my refusal of payment until your own eyes corroborate everything I have said."
"I believe you now," he said, staring at her. "I wish to offer you in behalf of the Company--"
A swift gesture conjured him to silence. She rose, listening intently.
Presently his ears too caught the faint sound, and he turned and walked swiftly and silently to the open window.
"There is your extra," she said pleasantly. "The _Empress of Borneo_ has been reported."
She was still lying on the couch beside the crystal, idly watching what scenes were drifting, mist-like, through its depths--scenes vague, and faded in colour, and of indefinite outline; for, like the monotone of a half-heard conversation which does not concern a listener these pa.s.sing phantoms concerned not her.
Under her indifferent eyes they moved; pale-tinted scenes grew, waxed, and waned, and a ghostly processional flowed through them without end under her dark blue dreaming eyes.
She had turned and dropped her head back upon the silken pillows when his signal sounded in telegraphic sequence on the tiny concealed bell.
The still air of the room was yet tremulous with the silvery vibration when he entered, looked around, caught sight of her, and came swiftly toward her.
She looked up at him in her sweet, idly humorous way, unstirring.
"This is becoming a habit with you, Clive."
"Didn't you care to see me this afternoon?" he asked so seriously that the girl laughed outright and stretched out one hand to him.
"Clive, you're becoming ponderous! Do you know it? Suppose I didn't care to see you this particular afternoon. Is there any reason why you should take it so seriously?"
"Plenty of reasons," he said, saluting her smooth, cool hand,--"with all these people at your heels every minute--"
"Please don't pretend--"
"I'm _not_ jealous. But all these men--Cecil and Jimmy Allys--they're beginning to be a trifle annoying to me."
She laughed in unfeigned and malicious delight: