From the Housetops Part 21

Suddenly he gripped Simmy by the shoulders and bent a white, scowling face down to the little man's level. "My G.o.d, Simmy, I-I can't help it. That's all there is to it. I just want to see her-just want to look at her. Can't you understand? But of course you can't. You couldn't know what it means to love a girl as I love her. It isn't in you. Annoy her? I'd cut my heart out first. What business is it of yours if I choose to stand out here all night just for a glimpse of her in all her happiness, all her triumph, all that she's got because she deserves it? Oh, I'm sober enough, so don't think it's that. Now, you let me alone. Get out of this, Simmy. I know what I'm doing and I don't want any advice from you. She won't know I'm over here when she comes out of that place, and what she doesn't know isn't going to bother her. She doesn't know that I sneak around like this to get a look at her whenever it's possible, and I don't want her to know it. It would worry her. It might-frighten her, Simmy, and G.o.d knows I wouldn't harm her by word or deed for anything on earth. Only she wouldn't understand. D'you see?" He shook Simmy as a dog would have shaken a rat, not in anger but to emphasise his seriousness.

"By Jove, George,-I'd like to believe that of you," chattered Simmy.

"Well, you can believe it. I'm not ashamed to confess what I'm doing. You may call me a baby, a fool, a crank or whatever you like,-I don't care.

I've just got to see her, and this is the only way. Do you think I'd spoil things for her, now that she's made good? Think I'd b.u.t.t in and queer it all? I'm no good, I'm a rotter, and I'm going to the devil as fast as I know how, Simmy. That's my affair, too. But I'm not mean enough to begrudge her the happiness she's found in spite of all us d.a.m.ned Tresslyns. Now, run along, Simmy, and don't worry about anything happening to her,-at least, so far as I'm concerned. She'll probably have her work cut out defending herself against some of her fine gentlemen, some of the respectable rotters in there. But she'll manage all right. She's the right sort, and she's had her lesson already. She won't be fooled again."

Simmy's amazement had given way to concern. "Upon my word, George, I'm sorry for you. I had no idea that you felt as you do. It's too darned bad.

I wish it could have been different with you two."

"It could have been, as I've said before, if I'd had the back-bone of a caterpillar."

"If you still love her as deeply as all this, why-"

"Love her? Why, if she were to come out here this instant and smile on me, Simmy, I'd-I'd-G.o.d, I don't know what I'd do!" He drooped his head dejectedly, and Simmy saw that he was shaking.

"It's too bad," said Simmy again, blinking. For a long time the two of them stood there, side by side, looking at the bright doorway across the street. Simmy was thinking hard. "See here, old fellow," he said at last, profoundly moved, "why don't you buck up and try to make something of yourself? It isn't too late. Do something that will make her proud of you.

Do-"

"Proud of me, eh?" sneered George. "The only thing I could do would be to jump into the river with my hands tied. She'd be proud of me for that."

"Nonsense. Now listen to me. You don't want her to know that you've been put in jail, do you?"

"What am I doing that would get me into jail?"

"Loitering. Loafing suspiciously. Drinking. A lot of things, my boy.

They'll nab you if you hang around here till three o'clock. You saw her go in, didn't you?"

"Yes. She-she happened to turn her face this way when she got to the top of the steps. Saying something to the people she was with. G.o.d, I-she's the loveliest thing in-" He stopped short, and put his hand to his eyes.

Simmy's grip tightened on George's arm, and then for five minutes he argued almost desperately with the younger man. In the end, Tresslyn agreed to go home. He would not go to Anne's.

"And you'll not touch another drop to-night?" said Dodge, as they crossed over to the line of taxi-cabs.

George halted. "Say, what's on your mind, Simmy? Are you afraid I'll go off my nut and create a scene,-perhaps mop up the sidewalk with some one like Percy Wintermill or-well, any one of those nuts in there? That the idea you've got? Well, let me set you right, my boy. If I ever do anything like that it will not be with Lutie as the excuse. I'll not drag her name into it. Mind you, I'm not saying I'll never smash some one's head, but-"

"I didn't mean that, at all," said Simmy.

"And you needn't preach temperance to me," went on George. "I know that liquor isn't good for me. I hate the stuff, as a matter of fact. I know what it does to a man who has been an athlete. It gets him quicker than it gets any one else. But the liquor makes me forget that I'm no good. It makes me think I'm the biggest, bravest and best man in the world, and G.o.d knows I'm not. When I get enough of the stuff inside of me, I imagine that I'm good enough for Lutie. It's the only joy I have, this thinking that I'm as decent as anybody, and the only time I think I'm decent is when I'm so d.a.m.ned drunk that I don't know anything at all. Tell him to take me to Meikelham's hotel. Good night. You're all right, Simmy."

"To Meikelham's? I want you to go home, George."

"Well, that's home for me at present. Rotten place, believe me, but it's the best I can get for a dollar a day," grated George.

"I thought you were living with your mother?"

"No. Kicked out. That was six weeks ago. Couldn't stand seeing me around.

I don't blame her, either. But that's none of your business, Simmy, so don't say another word."

"It's pretty rough, that's all."

"On me-or her?"

"Both of you," said Simmy sharply. "I say, come over and see me to-morrow afternoon, George,-at three o'clock. Sober, if you don't mind. I've got something to say to you-"

"No use, Simmy," sighed George.

"You are fond of Anne, aren't you?"

"Certainly. What's that got to do with it?"

"She may need you soon. You must be ready, that's all. See what I mean?"

"Moral support, eh?" scoffed George.

"You are her brother."

"Right you are," said the other soberly. "I'll be on hand, Simmy, if I'm needed. Tell Anne, will you? I'll stick it out for a few days if it will help her."

"There is a lot of good in you, George," said Simmy, engagingly. "I don't mind telling you that Lutie says the same thing about you. She has said to me more than once that-"

"Oh, don't lie to me!" snarled young Tresslyn, but Simmy did not fail to note the quickening of interest in his sullen eyes.

"More than once," he went on, following up the advantage, "she has expressed the opinion that with half a chance you would have been more than half a man."

"'Gad," said George, wonderingly, "I-I can almost believe you now. That's just the way she would have put it. G.o.d knows, Simmy, you are not smart enough to have said it out of your own head. She really thinks that, does she?"

"We'll talk it over to-morrow," said the other, quite well pleased with himself. Young Tresslyn was breathing heavily, as if his great lungs had expanded beyond their normal capacity. "Move along now."

"If I thought-" began George, but Simmy had slammed the door and was directing the chauffeur where to take his fare.

Half an hour later, Mrs. Fenwick's tables were deserted and the dance was on. Simmy Dodge, awaiting the moment of dispersion, lost no time in seeking Lutie. He had delayed his departure for Anne's home, and had been chafing through a long half-hour in the lounge downstairs. She was dancing with Percy Wintermill.

"h.e.l.lo, Dodge," said that young man, halting abruptly and somewhat aggressively when Simmy, without apology, clutched his arm as they swung by; "thought you'd gone. What d'you come back for?"

"I haven't gone, so I couldn't come back," answered Simmy easily. "I want a word or two with Mrs. Tresslyn, old boy, so beat it."

"Oh, I say, you've got a lot of cheek-"

"Come along, Mrs. Tresslyn; don't mind Percy. _This_ is important." With Lutie at his side, he made his way through the crowd about the door and led her, wondering and not a little disturbed, into one of the ante-rooms, where he found a couple of chairs.

She listened to his account of the meeting with her former husband, her eyes fixed steadily on his homely little face. There was alarm at first in those merry eyes of hers, but his first words were rea.s.suring. He convinced her that George was not bent on any act of violence, nor did he intend to annoy or distress her by a public encounter.

"As a matter of fact," he said, "he's gone off to bed, and I am quite certain that he will not change his mind. I waited here to tell you about him, Lutie, because I felt you ought to be prepared in case he does come back and you happen to see him skulking around in-"

"This isn't news to me, Simmy," she said seriously. "A half dozen times in the past two weeks I have caught sight of him, always in some convenient spot where he could watch me without much prospect of being seen. He seems to possess an uncanny knowledge of my comings and goings. I never see him in the daytime. I felt sure that he would be outside this place to-night, so when I came in I made it a point to look up and down the street,-casually, of course. There was a man across the street. I couldn't be sure, but I thought it was George. It has been getting on my nerves, Simmy." Her hand shook slightly, but what he had taken for alarm was gone from her eyes. Instead they were shining brightly, and her lips remained parted after she had finished speaking.

"Needn't have any fear of him," said he. "George is a gentleman. He still worships you, Lutie,-poor devil. He'll probably drink himself to death because of it, too. Of course you know that he is completely down and out?

Little more than a common b.u.m and street loafer."