A KING’S RANSOM IN RADIUM
A telegram from Corinne Delamar, later in the day, advised Margot
that the strategically planned directors’ meeting was to take place
the following morning at eleven, and would Margot please be on hand
without fail. Not that Corinne so described the meeting, but Margot
knew her well enough by this time, to be sure of the strategy implied.
She decided to telephone Gene to ask him to come to see her the
following evening. For the moment she was weary of discussion and
analysis, and not in the mood for an interview with Gene which was
likely to be rather strenuous, everything considered. Besides, she
would prefer to clean up her “job” as amateur detective--dispose
finally of Stoner--before coming to an understanding with Gene. It did
not occur to her that he might be sulking, or that he could be
anything but eager to answer her summons.
Her telephone call brought no response. Strange, because Gene was
invariably in his room at that hour, waiting for a call from her. She
rang his number twice more before going to bed. She wondered where he
could be, and a vague uneasiness possessed her. Could he actually be
angry with her to the point of not answering the phone? Funny old
Gene! Well, she’d explain things to-morrow night.
The next morning she met Corinne in her dressing-room. It was getting
to be a habit, Margot told the star, with her customary whimsicality.
“Funny, isn’t it!” Corinne laughed, making Margot welcome. “If
anybody’d told me a week ago that you and I would be getting chummy
about anything under the shining sun--Stoner least of all--I’d have
told them to go to an alienist. But here we are, actually in cahoots
to see that our friend gets his just deserts.” She offered her guest a
cigarette, then lighted it for her, adding: “And the funniest part of
the whole thing is that I’m not a bit unhappy about it. It was a shock
at first, but that’s all. I find I’m not really one little bit in love
with Stoner, and I thought I was, you know.”
“I’m mighty glad you’re not!” Margot said earnestly. “He isn’t fit to
clean your shoes, Miss Delamar.”
“He never would have.” Corinne looked down at her shoes and laughed
contemptuously. “He’s the kind who, after a few months of marriage,
would let his wife clean _his_ shoes. It’s strange, once you begin
shedding your illusions about a person, how clearly you see every
fault.”
“Too clearly, I think,” Margot said thoughtfully. “If you’ve begun by
exaggerating a person’s good points, when you begin to wake up you
almost always exaggerate the bad points. I’m quite sure that no man is
ever as good as the woman who loves him believes him to be, and never
as bad as the woman who hates him considers him to be. It’s the same
the other way round.”
“You’re some little philosopher, aren’t you, Miss Anstruther? No
wonder you ferreted out Stoner’s connection with your mystery. You’re
awfully clever. I wish I were!”
“If it’s that bad,” laughed Margot, “I’ll have to become a little
_more_ clever and disguise the fact that I _am_ clever. Clever girls
aren’t popular, you know.”
“Well, _you’re_ popular, so there must be exceptions.” There was no
mistaking Corinne’s sincerity. She was not simply flattering Margot,
with or without design.
“Everyone here has been awfully kind to me.” It was so trite a remark
that Margot chuckled inwardly at her concession to the commonplace.
Corinne glanced at her watch. “About ten minutes more, then we’ll have
to go to the board room. Won’t it be amusing seeing Stoner make a fool
of himself--as of course he will, trying to worm himself out of the
corner we’ve got him in!”
“Does he know about this directors’ meeting?”
“He does not,” said Corinne with a vicious little dab at her nose with
her powder pad. “Or rather, if he’s heard about it it’s by snooping
round, for he hasn’t been officially notified. You see”--she gave a
sudden laugh--“the directors don’t know themselves. I didn’t want
anything to leak out, so I merely sent a note to our manager, Marx
Klein, saying that there was something of the utmost importance which
I wished to take up with the board of directors to-day, and would he
please call a meeting. He sent back word that he would.”
“You’ve certainly got the power to make them sit up and take notice,
Miss Delamar.” Margot smiled with frank approval.
“I’ve got my nerve, perhaps you mean, but it’s this way. When you get
to be a star, you can have as much ‘temperament’ as you like. They
don’t dare squelch it. So when I ask for anything special, they take
for granted that a refusal will mean some kind of a blow-out on my
part, and they don’t dare risk it. I’ve never asked for a board
meeting _before_, so they’re sure it’s something out of the ordinary.”
“Which it certainly is,” laughed Margot.
“Well--at least it will mean the official removal of Stoner’s fat
head. A sore head it’ll be before we get through with him.”
A tap on the door, and the black face of Corinne’s maid, with bright,
bulging eyes, whispering to her mistress that the director would like
to have a few minutes’ conversation with her. Could he come in?
“Now, what the devil!” Corinne scowled, looking from the maid to
Margot.
“Do you suppose he’s come to beg for mercy?” Margot whispered.
“A lot of good it’ll do him! Shall we see him or not?” She seemed to
depend on Margot’s judgment.
“I think we might as well,” Margot said thoughtfully. “It’s always as
well to hear whatever your enemy--or your victim”--she suppressed a
giggle--“has to say for himself.”
“All right. Tell him to come in,” Corinne said to the maid.
Stoner stepped into the small inclosure. If the girls had expected to
see a browbeaten, anxious or suppliant Frederick Stoner, they were
disappointed. His shoulders were straight, his head erect, and his
eyes clear and direct in their gaze, first at one girl, then at the
other. In sheer astonishment at his expression and attitude, Corinne
kept silence. Her face showed her surprise, but Margot’s expression
was not so easy to read. She wondered if he’d come with any sort of a
threat up his sleeve. It would serve no purpose if so.
“Well,” he said, slowly. “I hear a board meeting is to take place
shortly. I heard of it last night. I’ve got something to say to you
two. I’m not a fool, whatever else you may think me, and I know damn
well that I gave myself away in this very room, yesterday.” He looked
at Margot as he spoke.
“You certainly did,” she said quickly.
“But that wouldn’t cut much ice, Miss Anstruther, if you didn’t have
the goods on me in the person of that skinny little thing, Stella
Ball.” Again he paused and stared at her.
Humph! That impromptu shot of hers had certainly gone home! It was a
good shot, anyway. A legitimate shot! She said quietly:
“Of course I knew, Mr. Stoner, that you were intelligent enough to
realize just what Stella Ball’s recognition of you and testimony would
mean.”
“Right. But if I’d been smart enough to bluff you out on your
deductions, and all that tripe that didn’t and couldn’t _prove_
anything, you’d probably never have thought of the Stella end of it.”
Margot merely smiled, but her instant thought was that he had more
logic than she had supposed.
“Did you come here now just for the pleasure of telling us what we
know already--that we’ve got the goods on you?” Corinne’s voice rasped
sharply and baneful yellow lights shone in her green eyes.
“No, I didn’t,” Stoner snapped at her. “I’ll tell you what I came for.
To tell you that you won’t have the satisfaction of making a fool of
me before any company directors.” He turned to look again at Margot.
“I decided last night to choose an alternative _not_ suggested by you.
I’m going to get out while the getting’s good, but I’m not _sneaking_
out. And, by the way, Miss Anstruther, you may be interested to hear
that the lovely Lulu is coming out there too.”
Corinne gave a start, and her eyes drew together in a quick frown as
she stared at Stoner. There was something in his smile that suggested
malice.
“Why should I be interested particularly in Lulu’s plans?” Margot
asked the question with cool impudence because his smile affected her
unpleasantly.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Thought you’d be glad to know she’s getting
out of your way.”
“Out of _my_ way!” Irritation gave way to astonishment. “Just what do
you mean by that, Mr. Stoner?”
“We--ll----” He rubbed the back of his head in affected embarrassment.
“Valery, you know. Thought you’d be glad to have her out of _his_
way.”
Margot regarded him with puzzled eyes, but Corinne’s lips smiled
sneeringly.
“What perfect rot!” she said disgustedly.
Stoner turned to her angrily. “Where do you come into this thing?
Margot’s no fool. She must know that Gene Valery is rushing the
Leinster kid. Why, I saw them together at a night club, about one
o’clock this morning.”
“I believe you’re lying.” Corinne spoke with deceptive gentleness.
“Just when, may I ask, did you engage Lulu to go out to the coast?”
“Oh--recently,” Stoner said, indicating vagueness of time and space
with a wave of his fat hand.
From narrowed eyes Corinne watched him, gave a low sound that
suggested a grunt of contempt and disbelief, then turned a friendly
glance upon Margot.
“Of course, Miss Anstruther, neither you nor I have the slightest
interest in Lulu Leinster’s movements. But we’re very much interested
in Stoner’s. You say,” she said sternly, looking at the director,
“that you’re getting out of here. Just when, may I ask?”
“Mailed my resignation to the president last night. He got it this
morning. I don’t know what you told them, but from what I gather, you
merely asked to have a meeting called. Well, I’ve got a ticket and
Pullman reservation to California” (he dug into his pocket, brought
forth the tickets and swung them lightly in front of him). “I’m going
straight to Hollywood. Made arrangements at that end by wire. I’m
taking a train in about an hour, at the Penn station. As your idea
seemed to be to get rid of me, I take it you’ll be satisfied with the
little plan I’ve made.” His smile at Corinne was sardonic.
For a moment she was at loose ends. She threw a worried glance at
Margot.
“You _did_ tell him you wouldn’t do anything to him if he’d get out,
but what in God’s name will I tell the directors, not to speak of
Klein and the president, Joseph Livingstone.”
“You can tell ’em anything you please!” Stoner spoke with sudden
fierceness. “Spill _all_ the beans, for all I care! They won’t be able
to get hold of me. Margot said she’d see that the matter’d be dropped
if I’d admit to the directors that what she says is true, and leave
the company. What’s the use taking the president into your sweet
confidence,” his thick lips curled bitterly, “if it’s on the books
that he won’t punish me? I’m going anyway, in five minutes, and nobody
can stop me that I know of.”
“I agree with Mr. Stoner,” Margot said quietly. “Let him go as he
plans to. Call off the meeting. They’ll just think your temperament’s
working over-time.” She gave Corinne a friendly little smile.
Deep puckers filled the space between Corinne’s two, rather lovely,
green eyes. Her mouth drew into a straight line, and she took a few
nervous puffs at her cigarette. Then, surprisingly, the expression of
anxious uncertainty changed to a sparkling of the eye, and a smile of
almost childish satisfaction. She threw away her cigarette with a
gesture as of having more vital matters to deal with.
“I know _just_ what I’ll say to the president and directors! It’s come
to me like a flash!”
Stoner studied her with dislike in his eyes.
“Don’t try to spring anything that’ll mean the breaking of Miss
Anstruther’s word to me!”
“Oh, _you_!” Contempt unspeakable in Corinne’s face and voice. “I
wasn’t even _thinking_ of you that minute!”
Blank amazement in Stoner’s face and on Margot’s. Then Stoner said,
addressing Margot:
“I guess that’s about all. As for you, Miss Anstruther, I believe
you’ll do exactly what you said you would--give me a chance to get
out, and drop the case against me. You’re too clever to be anything
but square.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. His remarks about Gene had obviously
been inspired by jealous malice, and she was inclined to agree with
Corinne that he had lied, although it seemed like rather a silly and
superfluous lie. Well--time for Gene later. No use getting upset by
anything Stoner said. So far as leaving without springing any new
tricks on them was concerned, she decided that he was acting in good
faith. Better let him go and drop everything, although what Corinne
suddenly felt inspired to tell the directors she couldn’t imagine. She
addressed Stoner quietly.
“All right, Mr. Stoner. You can count on my word. Hollywood is a
comfortably long ways off. You’re wise in going there. But I’d like to
ask you to tell me something before you go. Two questions. First, how
did you first get in touch with Murchison? I’d like to know.”
Stoner hesitated, then said slowly: “Might as well tell you. He came
to me a year ago, with some stones he wanted to sell. Heard I was
staging a costume play, and offered me a ruby for such a nominal sum
that it made me suspicious at once. I didn’t want anything to do with
stolen goods, and told him so, flat. He pulled a long, sad face, and a
long, unconvincing story. Said a rich friend had died and left him the
stones. Then he told me he was employed at the Fellowe Institute, and
said I could call up and verify that fact. I told him I’d do that and
then get in touch with him if I wanted to buy anything from him. So I
called up the Institute, found he was employed there all right--their
description of the old duck tallied with mine. But somehow that didn’t
convince me that he hadn’t stolen those stones. It sounded phony and
what he asked for them was ridiculous. Why, any jeweler would have
given four times as much and I told him so. He said he didn’t want to
bother with jewelers. So I dropped the matter.”
Stoner stopped to light a cigarette, and Margot said quickly:
“And when you read in the papers about the theft of the radium you
remembered Murchison, and you had a hunch he’d taken it?”
“Right. But Murchison came to my mind in connection with radium, only
because I got stumped trying to make a realistic scene in that picture
of mine, _The Masque of Life_. So I looked him up, and at first he
denied all knowledge of the radium. But I offered such a whacking
price for it--I thought at first I wanted to buy, but decided that
would be too dangerous, it was a veritable king’s ransom in
radium--that he weakened and admitted that he had it. The rest I guess
you know.”
“Second question, Mr. Stoner. What makes you suppose that you won’t be
brought back here from California, when Murchison’s trial takes place,
about six weeks from now? Are you so sure he won’t peach on you?”
“Dead sure!” Stoner spoke with conviction. “I’ll tell you why. I
arranged with Murchison in the beginning, that if anything happened
about the radium and he got caught, if he’d agree to keep me out of
it--never mention my name to a soul--I’d put ten thousand in the bank
for him. And I’ll do just that. In fact it’s done. I made all
arrangements the day after he was arrested. The minute the trial’s
over, if he’s kept his mouth shut, he’ll get notice that the money’s
in the bank in his name. If he squeals, he’ll get nothing, and it
won’t do _him_ any good to drag me into it. No matter what they could
do to me, it wouldn’t go easier with him for having dragged me into
it. _He_ stole the radium. I had nothing to do with that. He’ll go up
for that anyway, and a wad in the bank at his convenience, when he
gets out of jail, won’t be anything to sneeze at. So _that’s_ why I’m
so sure I won’t be dragged back from Hollywood--that is, if _you_ play
the game as I believe you will, Miss Anstruther.”
“I’ll play it just that way,” she said quietly. “Good-by, Mr. Stoner.
I advise your sticking to romance in the pictures you direct. It won’t
require the assistance of science to aid realism.” The smile she gave
him, although conveying a mocking taunt, was not unfriendly. He struck
her suddenly as so much more a fool than a knave, even in his
childishly malicious gossip about Gene.
Abruptly he stuck out his large hand. “Will you shake on it, Miss
Anstruther, just to show there’s no hard feeling?”
“Certainly!” She gave him her hand and he shook it with a great show
of sexless cordiality. That was for Corinne’s benefit.
He turned to go, without so much as a glance at Corinne. She said
sharply:
“You’re darn lucky you have to deal with a girl as square as Margot
Anstruther. Even if I wanted to play you a mean trick, she wouldn’t
let me do it.”
“Don’t need to remind me,” he said, with an ugly look at the star,
“that you’d play me a dirty trick if you dared. But _she’ll_ see to
that!” And the next instant the door closed behind him.
“Dirty dog!” It was Corinne’s irrepressible but final disposal of the
man for whom her love had turned to hate.
Margot, with her unquenchable sense of humor, said, with a smile she
tried to keep from spreading into a roguish grin:
“That gives you the last word. Now forget him! He’s really occupied
more time and space in my young life than he’s worth, except that he’s
furnished me with considerable amusement, first and last.”
“Well, I don’t see it--the amusement part. But, as you say, forget
him! Only there’s one little matter I’m not quite through with, that
is about Lulu Leinster. I signed her up last week, for a part in my
new picture. She may have played me a nasty trick, but I doubt it. I
believe Stoner sprung that stuff about her going out to the coast,
just to spite you, because you’d cornered him. I’m pretty sure it’s a
lie, and I’m dead sure the part about seeing her with Gene _was_ a
lie.”
Margot moved restlessly. “That’s of no importance, is it, but it is
important whether she’s broken her contract with you.”
“I’ll soon find out. I’ll send for her to come here.”
Corinne summoned her maid and directed that she request Miss Leinster
to meet Miss Delamar in her dressing-room within a half hour.
“And now for the board meeting,” she said cheerfully, rising. “We’re
late, of course, but they’ll wait. Just watch them jump to their big
flat feet, and bow and scrape as if I’d done them an honor by keeping
them waiting.”
“But, Miss Delamar,” Margot hung back, “whatever your business is with
the directors, you won’t need _me_ now.”
“I most certainly will!” Corinne put her hand on Margot’s arm, and
pushed her toward the door. “Now, more than before, if you only knew!”
And then she laughed into Margot’s questioning eyes.
“But--I don’t understand. You’re going to drop the case of Stoner
altogether, you said?”
“I am! But I didn’t say I was going to drop _your_ case, did I?”
Margot was puzzled. She didn’t know Corinne well, after all. What on
earth was she driving at? However, she, Margot, had nothing to
conceal--except for the sake of her promise to Stoner--and her
curiosity was aroused. Also she wasn’t a quitter. If Corinne wanted
her to go with her to that board meeting, why she’d go!
“You won’t tell me why you want me to go with you,” she temporized
once more.
“You’ll find out quick enough. Come on, please, Miss Anstruther! Have
a heart and don’t let us keep the poor things waiting any longer!”
So they hurried--until they reached the door of the board room. Then
Corinne put on her most nonchalant manner, and walked into the room as
if royalty itself had arrived with, as it were, a blowing of silver
trumpets and a tinkling of silver bells. Even Margot was impressed,
not by the star’s importance, but by the way she got away with it.
Every man in the room rose to his feet, bowing obsequiously, with
broad and admiring smiles centered on Corinne. A few glances wavered
in Margot’s direction, and all eyes were focussed on her, as their
star, with a little wave of her hand in Margot’s direction, said very
sweetly:
“Some of you have had the pleasure of meeting Miss Anstruther, some of
you haven’t, but of course you’ve _all_ heard about her fine work as
_Conchita_, in _A Toreador’s Love_!”
The men bowed to Margot, who gave to each of them a frank, personal
smile of acknowledgment, and a slight inclination of her head.
Corinne, without another glance at anyone, sat herself on the chair
put forward for her, crossed her knees, and beckoned to Margot to sit
beside her. It really was amusing, this stardom! If Corinne hadn’t
acquired the status of star, even her talent--and she had
talent--would not have commanded any particular respect from these
men, accustomed as they were to rather cavalier methods with the girls
in their employ. But Corinne was not only a good little actress; she
had her own increasing number of fans, and she was an asset to the
Superfilm Company. Margot felt that it was a definite accomplishment,
and she looked at Corinne with new respect.
“Well, Miss Delamar, you wished to have a meeting called to transact
some important business. But first let me tell you that Frederick
Stoner has run out on us. His resignation reached us this morning.”
Joseph Livingstone’s small eyes focussed on Corinne. Margot,
accustomed to reading human eyes, and finding it easy in so heavy a
countenance as that of Livingstone, understood that he was wondering
if a love-quarrel between the star and the director were the cause of
his sudden resignation.
Corinne turned upon the president a wide, innocent gaze of such
complete astonishment--such convincing surprise--that Margot bit her
lip, and looked quickly down at her lap. It would be awful if she were
to giggle or even smile in the august presence, and at that particular
moment. Corinne appeared far too amazed for speech. Joseph
Livingstone, apparently afraid of some temperamental outburst, said
hurriedly:
“Of course we’ll go on just the same. We’ve got plenty of good
directors. And now, Miss Delamar, what can I do for you?”
Corinne’s expression changed to frank and disarming friendliness. She
said sweetly:
“By doing what I ask, Mr. Livingstone, you will be doing something for
your company. I haven’t come here to ask a favor for myself. First, I
wish to call your attention to the marked talent Miss Anstruther has
shown in her work with us. You will agree with me, I’m sure?”
Margot looked at Corinne with an amazement which she had difficulty in
disguising. Joseph Livingstone rubbed his beringed hands, and said:
“I certainly agree with you, Miss Delamar. The young lady shows
decided promise. We think she has considerable talent.”
“Well, Mr. President,” Corinne smiled directly at him. “I now want to
call your attention to another important point. Miss Anstruther has
acquired, in the last few days, much publicity, of a kind that does an
actress a lot of good with the public. This publicity will be
invaluable, not only to her, but to me and to the whole company. Do
you understand, Mr. Livingstone?”
“I get your point.” Livingstone’s eyes looked suddenly more alive.
“I’m sure you do,” Corinne said warmly. “And I’m sure you’ll _all_
agree with my suggestion that you star Miss Anstruther, just as soon
as _A Toreador’s Love_ is finished!” She threw bright, eager glances
around the room.
Margot stared at Corinne in a surprise so intense that she forgot to
disguise it, but all eyes were fixed on the star.
“But,” gasped Joseph Livingstone, “I was thinking--we all
thought--that you and this young lady were not good friends.”
“How funny!” Corinne’s smile was genius--pure and simple genius,
Margot decided. “We’re the very _best_ of friends, and I admire Miss
Anstruther so much that I made up my mind to have a frank talk with
you, and try to make _you_ see what _I_ see so clearly.”
“Well, well, you take me by surprise, Miss Delamar. But, after all,
why not? Only we’ll have to find a picture for her.”
“Oh, that’s easy!” Corinne threw her beaming smile once more around
the room, then let it rest on Margot. “The title of the picture will
be _The Haunting Hand_, and the story will be the mystery of the arm,
and the strange lights in her room. It will make a _wonderful_
picture!”
“Fine! Fine!” The President again rubbed his white, short-fingered,
carefully manicured hands.
There were murmurs of approval, and glances of admiration bestowed on
Margot, who sat without a word, far too overcome with genuine
gratitude to Corinne for any casual acceptance of her kindness and
generosity. A few more remarks, a few more smiles and bows, and the
two girls left the board room. Outside they stood still and looked at
each other. Margot put out her hand and gripped Corinne’s.
“I don’t know why you did it, but you’re a little brick and I’m
honestly so grateful that I haven’t words to tell you how I feel about
it, Miss Delamar!”
Corinne returned the pressure of Margot’s fingers, then she said
slowly:
“Well, to be honest, I do like you immensely, and I admire you and
your work. You’ve got real talent. But I suppose--and an honest
confession is good for the soul--I suppose that I’m so darn glad you
put it all over Stoner, and opened my eyes for fair, regarding his
conduct in general, that I felt there wasn’t anything too much I could
find to do for you. That’s the God’s truth about it!”
And Margot knew that it was, looking into those strange green eyes
with their yellow lights.
In Corinne’s dressing-room they found Lulu Leinster smoking a
cigarette, stretched at ease in the one comfortable chair. She rose
languidly and smiled greetings to the star and to Margot.
Without preamble Corinne went to the point.
“Are you going out to the coast engaged by Stoner?”
The utter amazement in Lulu’s large blue eyes was sufficient reply to
Corinne’s question, without the astonished “No!” that followed.
Corinne flashed a look at Margot, then she said:
“He told me he’d signed you up to go out there. I was sure you
wouldn’t play me such a trick, but I thought I’d put it right up to
you.”
“Why, he must be a terrible liar, Miss Delamar, to say such a thing.
He _asked_ me to go out there and offered me something good if I’d go,
but I told him I’d signed up with you and that I’d rather stay here
with you.”
“Good child!” Corinne patted her hand. “As he’s such a picturesque
liar, I dare say he lied when he told us he’d seen you and Gene Valery
in a night club last night--or rather early this morning.” Corinne’s
inflection seemed to state a fact rather than ask a question.
Lulu’s fair skin grew slowly pink and she made a nervous pretense of
flicking the ashes from her cigarette. Without raising her eyes she
said a little unevenly:
“Mr. Stoner did see me last night with Gene Valery.”
Margot’s pulse beat suddenly very fast, but her eyes and mouth were
under control when Corinne’s astonished gaze flew to her, in
embarrassed uncertainty.
“Well----” The exclamation came from Corinne in a gasp of annoyance at
being put in a false position. “That’s funny! Since when have you and
Gene Valery been such friends?”
“Why, we’re _all_ good friends,” Margot broke in eagerly, “aren’t we,
Lulu?”
Lulu gave her a sidelong glance, then she said laconically:
“Sure thing.”
“I didn’t know,” persisted Corinne with a frown, “that you and Gene
were _particular_ friends.”
Lulu said nothing for a second, then she threw Margot an enigmatic
little smile.
“Suppose you ask Gene what sort of ‘particular’ friends we are,
Margot. I’m sure he’ll tell you. Well----” she turned to the star, “if
that’s all you want of me, Miss Delamar, guess I’ll run along.”
Margot gave her an unusually bright smile, but Corinne said rather
crossly:
“Run along, by all means.”
After Lulu had gone, Corinne threw herself into the easy chair,
lighted a cigarette, and asked Margot to sit down.
“Thanks, but I’ll have to be running along myself. I can’t tell you,
Miss Delamar, how I appreciate your interest in me. You’re really
awfully good to me.” The look in her eyes conveyed to Corinne the fact
that her loyalty to Margot in the matter of Gene and Lulu had not been
wasted.
“See here, my dear.” Corinne spoke slowly between puffs on her
cigarette. “I wouldn’t, if I were you, pay any attention to that
‘tripe’--to borrow one of Stoner’s pet vulgarities--about Gene and
Lulu. If he was with that little mutton-head last night, there was
some good reason for it, which he’ll tell you quick enough. Don’t take
it seriously.”
“Why should I!” Margot laughed, with a gaiety that did not deceive
Corinne. Then she said good-by and departed.
On her way to the train she deliberated whether or not to take any
initiative where Gene was concerned. The suspicion had come to her,
that he was angry and hurt, far more seriously than she had imagined
possible--that is, assuming that he was sincere in his protests of
love for her. A faint doubt on this point pricked her consciousness
with uneasy reminders of Lulu’s enigmatic smile. Could it be possible
that Gene was like the majority of men!
At last Margot faced the unpleasant conviction that she was miserable
at the very idea of Gene’s insincerity being a possible factor in the
situation. She shrank from acknowledging to herself that she felt
jealousy of Lulu Leinster, for jealousy is an admission of
inferiority. But it actually came to that, if she were to be honest
with herself. She _was_ jealous--horribly jealous--and miserable as
she had never supposed she could be over a man.
Well--she’d been rather silly, playing a waiting game with Gene, and
pretending not to take him seriously, and it was up to her to give him
the benefit of the doubt. She’d send for him and ask him frankly about
Lulu. If, in so doing, she would run a risk of showing Gene how much
she really loved him, surely it was worth the risk. She sent him a
telegram from Astoria to come and take her out to dinner, then she
hurried back to town.