The Double Life Of Mr. Alfred Burton Part 28

Mr. Waddington started.

"I'll have to make some excuse," he said.

"You won't be able to," Burton reminded him. "Excuses are not for us, nowadays. You'll have to tell the truth. I'm afraid you've rather put your foot in it."

Mr. Waddington became thoughtful. The young lady, having disposed of some other customers, returned to her place. She rubbed the counter for a few minutes with a duster which hung from the belt around her waist.

Then she leaned over once more towards them.

"It's a pity Maud's off duty, Mr. Burton," she remarked. "She's been asking about you pretty nearly every day."

A vision of Maud rose up before Burton's eyes. First of all he shivered. Then in some vague, unwholesome sort of manner he began to find the vision attractive. He found himself actually wishing that she were there--a buxom young woman with dyed hair and sidelong glances, a loud voice, and a distinct fancy for flirtations.

"She is quite well, I hope?" he said.

"Oh, Maudie's all right!" the young lady replied. "Fortunately for her, she's like me--she don't lay too much store on the things you gentlemen say when you come in. Staying away for months at a time!" she continued indignantly. "I'm ashamed of both of you. It's the way we girls always get treated. I shall tell them to lay for you for lunch to-day, anyway."

The two men looked at one another across the round table. Mr.

Waddington heaved a sigh.

"I shouldn't bother about that sale, if I were you," Burton whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "I tell you what it is, I daren't go on like this any longer.

I shall do something desperate. This horrible place is getting attractive to me! I shall probably sit here and order more beer and wait till Maud comes; I shall stay to lunch and sit with my arm around her afterwards! I am going to take a bean at once."

Mr. Waddington sighed and produced the snuff-box from his waistcoat pocket. Burton followed suit. The young woman, leaning across the counter, watched them curiously.

"What's that you're taking?" she inquired. "Something for indigestion?"

"Not exactly," Mr. Waddington replied. "It's a little ailment I'm suffering from, and Burton too."

They both swallowed their beans. Burton gave a deep sigh.

"I feel safe again," he murmured. "I am certain that I was on the point of suggesting that she send up for Maud. We might have taken them out together to-night, Mr. Waddington--had dinner at Frascati's, drunk cheap champagne, and gone to a music-hall!"

"Burton," Mr. Waddington said calmly, "I do not for a moment believe that we should so far have forgotten ourselves. I don't know how you are feeling, but the atmosphere of this place is most distasteful to me.

These tawdry decorations are positively vicious. The odor, too, is insufferable."

Burton rose hastily to his feet.

"I quite agree with you," he said. "Let us get out as quickly as we can."

"Something," Mr. Waddington went on, "ought to be done to prevent the employment of young women in a public place. It is enough to alter one's whole opinion of the s.e.x to see a brazen-looking creature like that lounging about the bar, and to be compelled to be served by her if one is in need of a little refreshment."

Burton nodded his approbation.

"How we could ever have found our way into the place," he said, "I can't imagine."

"A moment or two ago," Mr. Waddington groaned, "you were thinking of sending up for Maud."

Burton, at this, wiped the perspiration from his forehead.

"Please don't remind me of it," he begged. "Let us get away as quickly as we can."

The young lady leaned over from the bar, holding out a hand, none too clean, on which sparkled several rings.

"Well, you're in a great hurry all at once," she remarked. "Can't you stay a bit longer?"--She glanced at the clock.--"Maud will be down in ten minutes. You're not going away after all this time without leaving a message or something for her, Mr. Burton, surely?"

Burton looked at her across the counter as one might look at some strange creature from a foreign world, a creature to be pitied, perhaps, nothing more.

"I am afraid," he said, "that mine was only a chance visit. Pray remember me to Miss Maud, if you think it would be any satisfaction to her."

The young woman stared at him.

"My, but you are funny!" she declared. "You were always such a one for acting! I'll give her your love, never fear. I shall tell her you'll be round later in the day. On Thursday night, then," she added, turning to Mr. Waddington, "if I don't see you before, and if you really mean you're not going to stay for lunch. I'll meet you at the corner as usual."

Mr. Waddington turned away without apparently noticing the outstretched hand. He raised his hat, however, most politely. "If I should be prevented," he began,--The young woman glared at him.

"Look here, I've had enough of this shilly-shallying!" she exclaimed sharply. "Do you mean taking me out on Thursday or do you not?--because there's a gentleman who comes in here for his beer most every morning who's most anxious I should dine out with him my next night off. I've only to say the word and he'll fetch me in a taxicab. I'm not sure that he hasn't got a motor of his own. No more nonsense, if you please, Mr.

Waddington," she continued, shaking out her duster. "Is that an engagement with you on Thursday night, or is it not?"

Mr. Waddington measured with his eye the distance to the door. He gripped Burton's arm and looked over his shoulder.

"It is not," he said firmly.

They left the place a little precipitately. Once in the open air, however, they seemed quickly to recover their equanimity. Burton breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"I must go and change my clothes, Mr. Waddington," he declared. "I don't know how on earth I could have come out looking such a sight. I feel like working, too."

"Such a lovely morning!" Mr. Waddington sighed, gazing up at the sky.

"If only one could escape from these hateful streets and get out into the country for a few hours! Have you ever thought of travelling abroad, Burton?"

"Have you?" Burton asked.

Mr. Waddington nodded.

"I have it in my mind at the present moment," he admitted. "Imagine the joy of wandering about in Rome or Florence, say, just looking at the buildings one has heard of all one's life! And the picture galleries--just fancy the picture galleries, Burton! What a dream!

Have you ever been to Paris?"

"Never," Burton confessed sadly.

"Nor I," Mr. Waddington continued. "I have been lying awake at nights lately, thinking of Versailles. Why do we waste our time here at all, I wonder, in this ugly little corner of the universe?"

Burton smiled.

"There is something of the hedonist about you, Mr. Waddington," he remarked. "To me these mult.i.tudes of people are wonderful. I seem driven always to seek for light in the crowded places."

Mr. Waddington called a taxicab.

"Can I give you a lift?" he asked. "I have no sale until the afternoon.

I shall go to one of the galleries. I want to escape from the memory of the last half-hour!"