War-time Silhouettes Part 10

"What's your job at the War Office?" asked Bobby.

"As I really don't know myself it is rather difficult to explain it to you," answered the other, "but it seems chiefly to consist in sitting tight and preventing other people from annexing it."

"I'm up for a commission," remarked Bobby. "Can you do anything to help me about it?"

"Dear me, what a silly thing to do! What regiment?"

Bobby explained.

"I shall be charmed to do what I can," replied Clancey, "but as they simply loathe me at Headquarters I don't think it will do you much good."

They fell to discussing other things. Bobby, obsessed by his recent experiences, could not resist telling his companion something about them.

But he did not mention Ramsey. The implied admission that he had been cut out was too humiliating. Clancey's interest was evidently aroused. He wanted to hear all about Madame de Corantin.

"She seems to have fascinated you," he remarked.

"She'd fascinate anybody."

"And you really don't know what has become of her? How extraordinary!"

"Isn't it?"

"You mean to say you cannot trace her in any way?"

"I have no more idea than the man in the moon where she is."

Clancey reflected.

"Did you say she was French?" he asked.

"Her husband was; she herself is Russian."

Clancey looked at him.

"Oh, Russian, is she? Corantin, Corantin. Let me see. I seem to remember the name somehow."

"No, do you?" Bobby's voice betrayed his interest.

"I must think about it," said Clancey. He pulled out his watch. "I think it is time I got back to the War Office. I'll see about the commission, Froelich, and let you know."

"This is where I live," said Bobby, handing him a card. "Do look me up. I do want that commission, and as quickly as possible."

They went out of the restaurant and separated in the street, Bobby taking his way towards his rooms in Down Street. He was wondering whether perhaps luck had come his way, and whether Clancey would reveal to him some means of finding Madame de Corantin. If he did, d.a.m.n the commission!

That evening, as on all others, Bobby was bored to death; the habits of twenty years were not to be thrown off in a day. It was impossible for him to go to bed before the small hours, and not knowing how else to kill time he dropped in at the Savoy restaurant. It was late when he got there, and he strolled through the foyer, stopping at various tables to talk to acquaintances. He had no intention of taking supper, but just wanted to see who was there.

Of a sudden, for no reason that he could possibly have explained, an impulse made him walk into the restaurant. In that instant he felt positively, he could have sworn that Madame de Corantin was there. His heart beat so that he thought it must be heard as he made his way to the entrance, and immediately, with a strange sort of intuition, his eyes found her.

There she was, at the table on the right. He could see her through the gla.s.s screen, and Ramsey was with her. He stood still a moment, devouring her with his eyes, and then she looked up and recognized him. Was she really beckoning to him? The reaction was so great that he dared not believe the evidence of his senses. No, there was no doubt; she was actually beckoning. As he walked towards the table he felt as though his legs would give way under him; and now he was by her; he held her hand.

"Ah, Bobby, my friend, I am so pleased to see you."

The familiar voice, the familiar glance! It was all too good to be true.

He was blind to the presence of Ramsey. He was alone with her; Ramsey did not exist; the restaurant did not exist. The hum of voices, the clatter of plates, the movements of the waiters, were distant sounds: all he knew was that he was standing there by her.

"Sit down, Bobby."

Mechanically he seated himself, and gradually some of his equanimity returned. He could speak, but he said nothing of what he felt.

Instinctively he knew that it was wiser to make no reference to anything that had pa.s.sed.

Ramsey's face was set and cold, but all his capacity for insolent indifference did not enable him to conceal his annoyance. His eyes flashed with anger.

"I think we ought to be going; it is getting rather late. We don't want to be swept out with the dust, do we?" He addressed Madame de Corantin.

"Oh, I am in no hurry, Mr. Ramsey," she replied. "It gives me great pleasure to see Mr. Froelich again. I was obliged to leave Paris so suddenly, and never had an opportunity of showing him how much I appreciated his kindness to me."

Ramsey said nothing, but he glared at Bobby vindictively.

Presently Madame de Corantin rose, but as she left the room she made a point of keeping Bobby beside her, and in her inimitable way she asked Ramsey to fetch her cloak. For a moment Bobby had the exquisite joy of being alone with her.

"Only tell me one thing," he almost gasped. "Tell me that I may see you, and when."

She thought a moment. "Not tomorrow, I fear. I should like to so much, but I have not a moment. Come the next day to lunch. I am staying at Claridge's."

Ramsey appeared with the cloak, and she was gone.

What the next hours meant to Bobby can be imagined. They were pa.s.sing somehow. The night, the morning, the afternoon wore away. He bought some magnificent roses and returned to his flat to dress, determined that he would take them himself to Claridge's, hoping that by some chance he might catch a glimpse of her.

He was just starting out when, to his surprise, Clancey was announced.

"There is something I wanted to tell you, Froelich."

Bobby waited impatiently.

"That lady you were talking about, Madame de Corantin. I think I remember something."

Bobby was nervously anxious to get away. What Clancey had to tell him mattered little now.

"Oh, thanks very much, Clancey. The fact is, I've seen her."

Clancey's nonchalant manner changed instantaneously.

"Really!" he exclaimed.

"At the Savoy last night. She is here in London. She is staying at Claridge's. In fact, to tell you the truth, I am taking these flowers there now. I am to lunch with her to-morrow. It has been a great surprise.

I never dreamt of such a thing," Bobby stammered on excitedly.

Clancey became calm again.