The Window-Gazer Part 12

What does she wish to buy? Oh, not much--just life, the a.s.sorted kind.

B. H. S.

CHAPTER X

It was the day before Friday. Friday, so very near, seemed already palpably present in the surcharged air of the cottage. No one mentioned it, but that made its nearness more potent. At his usual hour for dictation, Professor Spence had come out upon the narrow veranda. But, although his secretary was there, pencil in hand, he had not dictated.

Instead he had sat contemplating Friday so long that his secretary tapped her foot in impatience.

"Are you really lazy?" she asked, "Or are you just pretending to be?"

"I am really lazy. All truly gifted people are. You know what Wilde says, 'Real industry is simply the refuge of people who have nothing to do.'"

The prompt, "Who is Wilde?" of the secretary did not disconcert him. He had discovered that her ignorance was as unusual as her knowledge.

"Who is Wilde? Oh, just a little bit of English literature. Christian name of Oscar. You'll come across him when you go shopping."

A faint pucker appeared between the secretary's eye-brows.

"You are coming shopping, aren't you?" asked Spence, faintly stressing the verb.

"I--want to."

"That's settled then."

The pucker grew more p.r.o.nounced. The secretary resigned all hope of dictation and laid down her pencil.

"Tomorrow," reminded Spence gently, "is Friday."

"Yes, I know. And if I go, do I--we--go tomorrow?"

"It would be advisable."

"The time doesn't matter," mused Desire. "But--do you mind if I speak quite plainly?"

"Not at all. You have hardened me to plain speaking."

"I have been thinking over what you told me. It does make a difference.

I see that I need not be afraid of--of what I was afraid of. It's as if--as if we had both had the measles."

"You can take--" began Spence, but stopped him-self. It would never do to remind her that one may take the measles twice.

"Of course you won't believe it, not for a long time anyway," she went on in the tone of an indulgent grand-mother, "but love is only an episode. You are fortunate to be well over it."

Spence sighed. He hadn't intended to sigh. It just happened.

Fortunately it was the correct thing.

"I don't want to distress you," kindly, "but we were rather vague the other night. I understood the main fact, but that is about all. You didn't tell me what happened after."

The professor's chair, which had been tilted negligently back, came down with a thud.

"After?" he murmured meekly. "After--?"

"I mean," prompted Desire gently, "did she marry the other man?"

"The other man? I--I don't know." The professor was willing to be truthful while he could. But instantly he saw that it wouldn't do.

"You--don't--know?" If ever incredulity breathed in any voice it breathed in hers. It gave our weak-kneed liar the brace that he needed.

"No," he said sadly, "they were to have been married--I have never heard."

"Oh! Then, of course, she did not live in your home town."

"Didn't she?" asked Spence, momentarily off guard. "Oh, I see what you mean--no, naturally not."

"I thought that perhaps you might have been boy and girl together,"

dreamily. "It so often happens."

"It does," said Spence. "But it didn't."

"And is there no one--no friend, from whom you could naturally inquire?

You feel you wouldn't care to ask anyone?"

"Ask? Good heavens, no--certainly not!"

"Men are queer," said Desire naively. "A woman would just simply have to ask."

"She would."

"You think me inquisitive?" Her quick brain had not missed the dry implication of his tone. "But you see I had to know something. It's all right, I'm sure. But it would have been so much--more comfortable if she were quite married."

(Oh course it would--why in thunder hadn't he thought of that? The professor was much annoyed with himself.)

"She is probably quite, utterly married long ago," he said gloomily.

"What possible difference can it make?"

"None. Don't look so bitter! Perhaps I should not have asked questions.

I won't ask any more--except one. Would you mind very much telling me her name?"

Her name!

The hara.s.sed man looked wildly around. But there was no escape. Not even Sami was in sight. Only a jeering crow flapped black wings and laughed discordantly.

"Just her first name, you know," added Desire reasonably.

"Oh yes--certainly. No, of course I don't mind. I am quite willing to tell you her name. But--do you mean her real name or--or--the name she was usually called?" The professor was sparring wildly for time.