Man and Maid

"I can't" still her eyes were down.

"Is there someone else?" My voice sounded fierce to my own ears. I had a

sudden fear.

"But you said it would not matter if there was someone else--if I told

you," she answered defiantly.

"There is someone else then?" I tried to be casual. "Look at me."

Slowly she raised her eyes until they met my one.

"No, there is no one.--I just don't want to live here, in this flat any

longer."

"Unless you can give me some definite reason for this extraordinary

behaviour on your part, I am afraid I must refuse to discuss the

situation, and meanwhile will you please go to your room and fetch the

rings and bracelets."

She turned and left without a word--I daresay she wondered what I was

going to do with them.

She brought them back.

"Come here close."

She came rebelliously.

"Give me your hand."

"I won't."

"Alathea, I will seize it, crippled as I am, and make you obey me by

force if you will not for asking."

Her whole face expressed furious resentment, but she is too sensible and

level headed to make a scene, so she gave me her hand. I put the wedding

ring back, and the big diamond one.

"Now you will wear them until you convince me of your reason so

thoroughly that I myself take them off, the bracelets you can do as you

like about--throw them away, or give them to your maid. And this

afternoon I hope I can count upon your instincts of being a lady to make

you behave so that no one can chatter about us."

She drew away her hand, as though my touch burnt her. Her expression was

contemptuously haughty.

"Of course you can count upon me for this afternoon," and she turned and

went out of the room again.

And now I am waiting for her to come back dressed for the Duchesse's

reception, it is ten minutes to four o'clock. The volcano upon which we

are living cannot go on simmering much longer, there is bound to be an

explosion soon!

* * * * *

Later: Things are developing! My bride and I never spoke a word on the way to

the Hotel de Courville. She was looking the most desirable morsel a man

could wish to present to his friends. The sable cloak and the most

perfect frock and hat. Her maid is evidently a splendid hairdresser. She

was "of a chic," as Maurice afterwards told me.