CHAPTER XXXIII

The next day they met for dinner at a little place near Washington Square

where it was certain that none of Julia’s friends ever went. Julia was a

singularly contented-looking criminal. Never, Ramon thought had her skin

looked more velvety, her eyes deeper or more serene. He was a trifle

haggard, but happy, and both of them were hungry.

“Do you know?… I’ve made a discovery,” she told him. “I haven’t any

conscience. I slept peacefully nearly all day, and when I waked up I

considered the matter carefully … I don’t believe that I have any proper

appreciation of the enormity of what I’ve done at all. I have always

thought that if anything like this ever happened to me I would go off and

chloroform myself, but as a matter of fact I have no such intention … of

course, though, it was not my fault in the least. You’re so terrible!… I

simply couldn’t help myself, and I don’t see what I can do now … that’s

comforting. But one thing is certain. We’ve got to be awfully careful.

Thank Heaven, mother and Gordon are still in Florida and they won’t dare

to come North on Gordon’s account until it gets a good deal warmer. But we

must be careful. I’m not sorry, like I should be, but I sure am scared.…”

They sat for a long time after the meal, Ramon smoking a cigar, their

knees touching under the table. He was filled with a vast contentment. He

thought nothing of the troubled past, nor did he look into the obviously

troubled future. He merely basked in the consciousness of a possession

infinitely sweet.

Now began for them a life of clandestine adventure. Julia had a good many

engagements, but she managed to give him some part of every day. They

never met in the hotel, but usually took taxicabs separately and met in

out-of-the-way parts of that great free wilderness of city. Ramon spent

most of the time when he was not with her exploring for suitable meeting

places. They became patrons of cellar restaurants in Greenwich Village, of

French and Italian places far down town, of obscure Brooklyn hotels. If

the regular fare at these establishments was not all they desired, Ramon

would lavishly bribe the head waiter, call the proprietor into

consultation if necessary, insist on getting what Julia wanted. He spent

his money like a millionaire, and usually created the general impression

that he was a wealthy foreigner. Every morning he had flowers sent to

Julia’s room. Often they would take a taxi and spend hours riding about

the streets with the blinds drawn, locked in each others’ arms.

For a week they were keenly, excitedly happy, living wholly in the joy of

the moment. Then a flaw appeared upon the glowing perfect surface of their

happiness.

“When is your husband coming back?” he enquired once, when they were

riding through Central Park.

“I don’t know. In a week or two. Why?”

“Because we must decide pretty soon what we’re going to do.”

“Do? What can we do?”

“We must decide where we’re going. You must go with me somewhere. I’m not

going to let you get away from me again … not even for a little while.”

“But Ramon, how can we? I’m married. I can’t go anywhere with you.…”

He seized her fiercely by the shoulders and held her away from him,

looking into her eyes.

“Don’t you love me, then?” he demanded.

“Ramon! You know I do!”

“Then you’ll go. We can go to Mexico City, or South America … I’ll sell

out at home.…”

“O, Ramon … I can’t. I haven’t got the courage. Think of the fuss it would

raise. And it would kill Gordon, I know it would.…”

“Damn Gordon!” he exclaimed, “he’s not going to get in the way again!

You’re mine and I’m going to keep you. You will go. I’ll take you!”

He had seized her in his arms, was holding her furiously tight. She put

her arms around him, caressed his face with soft fluttering hands.

“Please, Ramon! Please don’t make me miserable. Don’t spoil the only

happiness I ever had! I will go with you if ever I can, if I can get a

divorce or something. But I can’t run off like that. I haven’t got it in

me … please let me be happy!”

Her touch and her voice seemed to overcome his determination, seemed to

sheer him of his strength. Weaker she was than he, but her charm was her

power. It dragged him away from his thoughts and purposes, binding him to

her and to the moment.… She drew his head down to her breast, found his

lips with hers and so effectively cut his protests short.

The cream of his happiness was gone. Always when he was alone, he was

thinking and planning how he could keep her. All of his possessiveness was

aroused. He wanted her to have a baby. Somehow he felt that then his

conquest would be complete, that then he would be at peace.…

He said nothing more to Julia because he saw that it was useless. He began

to understand her a little. It was futile to ask her to make a decision,

to take any initiative. She could hold out forever against pleas which

involved an effort of the will on her part. And yet as he knew she could

yield charmingly to pressure adroitly applied. If he had asked her to meet

him in New York this way, he reflected, she would have been horrified, she

would never have consented. But when he came, suddenly, that had been

different. So it was now. If he could only form a really good plan, and

then put her in a cab and take her … that would be the only way. The

difficulty was to form the plan. He had capacity for sudden and decisive

action. He lacked neither courage nor resolution. But when it came to

making a plan which would require much time and patience, he found his

limitations.

What could he do? he asked himself, not realizing that in formulating the

question he acknowledged his impotence. If he went away and left her while

he settled his affairs, she was lost as surely as a bird released from a

cage. The idea of Mexico City allured him. But he had hardly enough money

to take them there. How could he raise money on short notice? It would

take time to settle his estate in New Mexico and get anything out of it.…

Two unrealized facts lay at the root of his difficulty. One was that he

had no capacity for large and intricate plans, and the other was that he

felt bound as by an invisible tether to the land where he had been born.

As he struggled with all these conflicting considerations and emotions,

his head fairly ached with futile effort. He was glad to lay it upon

Julia’s soft bosom, to forget everything else again in the sweetness of a

stolen moment.

The Blood of the Conquerors · 第 33 / 36 章