"Say no one can see him."
Markey's woodcock eyes, under their thin, dark, twisting brows, fastened on her dolefully; he opened the door to go. Fiorsen was standing there, and, with a quick movement, came in. She saw Markey raise his arms as if to catch him round the waist, and said quietly:
"Markey--wait outside, please."
When the door was shut, she retreated against her dressing-table and stood gazing at her husband, while her heart throbbed as if it would leap through its coverings.
He had grown a short beard, his cheeks seemed a little fatter, and his eyes surely more green; otherwise, he looked much as she remembered him. And the first thought that passed through her was:
'Why did I ever pity him? He'll never fret or drink himself to death--he's got enough vitality for twenty men.'
His face, which had worn a fixed, nervous smile, grew suddenly grave as her own, and his eyes roved round the room in the old half-fierce, half-furtive way.
"Well, Gyp," he said, and his voice shook a little: "At last!
Won't you kiss me?"
The question seemed to Gyp idiotic; and suddenly she felt quite cool.
"If you want to speak to my father, you must come later; he's out."Fiorsen gave one of his fierce shrugs.
"Is it likely? Look, Gyp! I returned from Russia yesterday. Iwas a great success, made a lot of money out there. Come back to me! I will be good--I swear it! Now I have seen you again, Ican't be without you. Ah, Gyp, come back to me! And see how good I will be. I will take you abroad, you and the bambina. We will go to Rome--anywhere you like--live how you like. Only come back to me!"Gyp answered stonily:
"You are talking nonsense."
"Gyp, I swear to you I have not seen a woman--not one fit to put beside you. Oh, Gyp, be good to me once more. This time I will not fail. Try me! Try me, my Gyp!"Only at this moment of his pleading, whose tragic tones seemed to her both false and childish, did Gyp realize the strength of the new feeling in her heart. And the more that feeling throbbed within her, the harder her face and her voice grew. She said:
"If that is all you came to say--please go. I will never come back to you. Once for all, understand, PLEASE."The silence in which he received her words, and his expression, impressed her far more than his appeal; with one of his stealthy movements he came quite close, and, putting his face forward till it almost touched her, said:
"You are my wife. I want you back. I must have you back. If you do not come, I will kill either you or myself."And suddenly she felt his arms knotted behind her back, crushing her to him. She stilled a scream; then, very swiftly, took a resolve, and, rigid in his arms, said:
"Let go; you hurt me. Sit down quietly. I will tell you something."The tone of her voice made him loosen his grasp and crane back to see her face. Gyp detached his arms from her completely, sat down on an old oak chest, and motioned him to the window-seat. Her heart thumped pitifully; cold waves of almost physical sickness passed through and through her. She had smelt brandy in his breath when he was close to her. It was like being in the cage of a wild beast; it was like being with a madman! The remembrance of him with his fingers stretched out like claws above her baby was so vivid at that moment that she could scarcely see him as he was, sitting there quietly, waiting for what she was going to say. And fixing her eyes on him, she said softly:
"You say you love me, Gustav. I tried to love you, too, but Inever could--never from the first. I tried very hard. Surely you care what a woman feels, even if she happens to be your wife."She could see his face quiver; and she went on:
"When I found I couldn't love you, I felt I had no right over you.
I didn't stand on my rights. Did I?"
Again his face quivered, and again she hurried on:
"But you wouldn't expect me to go all through my life without ever feeling love--you who've felt it so many times?" Then, clasping her hands tight, with a sort of wonder at herself, she murmured: "IAM in love. I've given myself."
He made a queer, whining sound, covering his face. And the beggar's tag: "'Ave a feelin' 'eart, gentleman--'ave a feelin'
'eart!" passed idiotically through Gyp's mind. Would he get up and strangle her? Should she dash to the door--escape? For a long, miserable moment, she watched him swaying on the window-seat, with his face covered. Then, without looking at her, he crammed a clenched hand up against his mouth, and rushed out.
Through the open door, Gyp had a glimpse of Markey's motionless figure, coming to life as Fiorsen passed. She drew a long breath, locked the door, and lay down on her bed. Her heart beat dreadfully. For a moment, something had checked his jealous rage.
But if on this shock he began to drink, what might not happen? He had said something wild. And she shuddered. But what right had he to feel jealousy and rage against her? What right? She got up and went to the glass, trembling, mechanically tidying her hair.
Miraculous that she had come through unscathed!
Her thoughts flew to Summerhay. They were to meet at three o'clock by the seat in St. James's Park. But all was different, now;difficult and dangerous! She must wait, take counsel with her father. And yet if she did not keep that tryst, how anxious he would be--thinking that all sorts of things had happened to her;thinking perhaps--oh, foolish!--that she had forgotten, or even repented of her love. What would she herself think, if he were to fail her at their first tryst after those days of bliss? Certainly that he had changed his mind, seen she was not worth it, seen that a woman who could give herself so soon, so easily, was one to whom he could not sacrifice his life.
