"Seventy-three Comrade Street, So'o. Up to seeing him there on Tuesday, I must say I cherished every hope. Now I'm sorry I didn't strike him--he was too quick for me--" He had raised one of his gloved hands and was sawing it up and down. The sight of that black object cleaving the air nearly made Gyp scream, her nerves were so on edge. "It's her blasted independence--I beg pardon--but who wouldn't?" he ended suddenly.
Gyp passed him.
"Who wouldn't?" she heard his voice behind her. "I did think she'd have run straight this time--" And while she was fumbling at the outer door, his red, pudgy face, with its round grey beard, protruded almost over her shoulder. "If you're going to see her, Ihope you'll--"
Gyp was gone. In her cab she shivered. Once she had lunched with her father at a restaurant in the Strand. It had been full of Mr.
Wagges. But, suddenly, she thought: 'It's hard on him, poor man!'
XIII
Seventy-three Comrade Street, Soho, was difficult to find; but, with the aid of a milk-boy, Gyp discovered the alley at last, and the right door. There her pride took sudden alarm, and but for the milk-boy's eyes fixed on her while he let out his professional howl, she might have fled. A plump white hand and wrist emerging took the can, and Daphne Wing's voice said:
"Oh, where's the cream?"
"Ain't got none."
"Oh! I told you always--two pennyworth at twelve o'clock.""Two penn'orth." The boy's eyes goggled.
"Didn't you want to speak to her, miss?" He beat the closing door.
"Lidy wants to speak to you! Good-mornin', miss."The figure of Daphne Wing in a blue kimono was revealed. Her eyes peered round at Gyp.
"Oh!" she said.
"May I come in?"
"Oh, yes! Oh, do! I've been practising. Oh, I am glad to see you!"In the middle of the studio, a little table was laid for two.
Daphne Wing went up to it, holding in one hand the milk-can and in the other a short knife, with which she had evidently been opening oysters. Placing the knife on the table, she turned round to Gyp.
Her face was deep pink, and so was her neck, which ran V-shaped down into the folds of her kimono. Her eyes, round as saucers, met Gyp's, fell, met them again. She said:
"Oh, Mrs. Fiorsen, I am glad! I really am. I wanted you so much to see my room--do you like it? How DID you know where I was?"She looked down and added: "I think I'd better tell you. Mr.
Fiorsen came here, and, since then, I've seen him at Count Rosek's--and--and--"
"Yes; but don't trouble to tell me, please."
Daphne Wing hurried on.
"Of course, I'm quite mistress of myself now." Then, all at once, the uneasy woman-of-the-world mask dropped from her face and she seized Gyp's hand. "Oh, Mrs. Fiorsen, I shall never be like you!"With a little shiver, Gyp said:
"I hope not." Her pride rushed up in her. How could she ask this girl anything? She choked back that feeling, and said stonily: "Do you remember my baby? No, of course; you never saw her. HE and Count Rosek have just taken her away from me."Daphne Wing convulsively squeezed the hand of which she had possessed herself.
"Oh, what a wicked thing! When?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
"Oh, I AM glad I haven't seen him since! Oh, I DO think that was wicked! Aren't you dreadfully distressed?" The least of smiles played on Gyp's mouth. Daphne Wing burst forth: "D'you know--Ithink--I think your self-control is something awful. It frightens me. If my baby had lived and been stolen like that, I should have been half dead by now."Gyp answered stonily as ever:
"Yes; I want her back, and I wondered--"
Daphne Wing clasped her hands.
"Oh, I expect I can make him--" She stopped, confused, then added hastily: "Are you sure you don't mind?""I shouldn't mind if he had fifty loves. Perhaps he has."Daphne Wing uttered a little gasp; then her teeth came down rather viciously on her lower lip.
"I mean him to do what I want now, not what he wants me. That's the only way when you love. Oh, don't smile like that, please; you do make me feel so--uncertain.""When are you going to see him next?"
Daphne Wing grew very pink.
"I don't know. He might be coming in to lunch. You see, it's not as if he were a stranger, is it?" Casting up her eyes a little, she added: "He won't even let me speak your name; it makes him mad.
That's why I'm sure he still loves you; only, his love is so funny." And, seizing Gyp's hand: "I shall never forget how good you were to me. I do hope you--you love somebody else." Gyp pressed those damp, clinging fingers, and Daphne Wing hurried on:
"I'm sure your baby's a darling. How you must be suffering! You look quite pale. But it isn't any good suffering. I learned that."Her eyes lighted on the table, and a faint ruefulness came into them, as if she were going to ask Gyp to eat the oysters.
Gyp bent forward and put her lips to the girl's forehead.
"Good-bye. My baby would thank you if she knew."And she turned to go. She heard a sob. Daphne Wing was crying;then, before Gyp could speak, she struck herself on the throat, and said, in a strangled voice:
"Tha--that's idiotic! I--I haven't cried since--since, you know.
I--I'm perfect mistress of myself; only, I--only--I suppose you reminded me--I NEVER cry!"Those words and the sound of a hiccough accompanied Gyp down the alley to her cab.
When she got back to Bury Street, she found Betty sitting in the hall with her bonnet on. She had not been sent for, nor had any reply come from Newmarket. Gyp could not eat, could settle to nothing. She went up to her bedroom to get away from the servants'
