"Oh, yes, you have." They began to discuss it, and for better
consideration of the theme it became necessary for Cora to "cut"
the next dance, promised to another, and to give it to Mr.
Wattling. They danced several times together, and Mr. Wattling's
expression was serious. The weavers of the tapestry smiled and
whispered things the men would not have understood--nor believed.
Ray Vilas, seated alone in a recessed and softly lighted gallery,
did not once lose sight of the flitting sorceress. With his elbows
on the railing, he leaned out, his head swaying slowly and
mechanically as she swept up and down the tumultuously moving
room, his passionate eyes gaunt and brilliant with his hunger. And
something very like a general thrill passed over the assembly
when, a little later, it was seen that he was dancing with her.
Laura, catching a glimpse of this couple, started and looked
profoundly disturbed.
The extravagance of Vilas's passion and the depths he sounded, in
his absurd despair when discarded, had been matters of almost
public gossip; he was accounted a somewhat scandalous and
unbalanced but picturesque figure; and for the lady whose light
hand had wrought such havoc upon him to be seen dancing with him
was sufficiently startling to elicit the universal
remark--evidently considered superlative--that it was "just like
Cora Madison!" Cora usually perceived, with an admirably clear
head, all that went on about her; and she was conscious of
increasing the sensation, when after a few turns round the room,
she allowed her partner to conduct her to a secluding grove of
palms in the gallery. She sank into the chair he offered, and,
fixing her eyes upon a small lamp of coloured glass which hung
overhead, ostentatiously looked bored.
"At your feet, Cora," he said, seating himself upon a stool, and
leaning toward her. "Isn't it appropriate that we should talk to
music--we two? It shouldn't be that quick step though--not
dance-music--should it?"
"Don't know 'm sure," murmured Cora.
"You were kind to dance with me," he said huskily. "I dared to
speak to you----"
She did not change her attitude nor the direction of her glance.
"I couldn't cut you very well with the whole town looking on. I'm
tired of being talked about. Besides, I don't care much who I
dance with--so he doesn't step on me."
"Cora," he said, "it is the prelude to `L'Arlesienne' that they
should play for you and me. Yes, I think it should be that."
"Never heard of it."
"It's just a rustic tragedy, the story of a boy in the south of
France who lets love become his whole life, and then--it kills
him."
"Sounds very stupid," she commented languidly.
"People do sometimes die of love, even nowadays," he said,
tremulously--"in the South."
She let her eyes drift indifferently to him and perceived that he
was trembling from head to foot; that his hands and knees shook
piteously; that his lips quivered and twitched; and, at sight of
this agitation, an expression of strong distaste came to her face.
"I see." Her eyes returned to the lamp. "You're from the South,
and of course it's going to kill you."
"You didn't speak the exact words you had in your mind.'"
"Oh, what words did I have `in my mind'?" she asked impatiently.
"What you really meant was: `If it does kill you, what of it?'"
She laughed, and sighed as for release.
"Cora," he said huskily, "I understand you a little because you
possess me. I've never--literally never--had another thought since
the first time I saw you: nothing but you. I think of
you--actually every moment. Drunk or sober, asleep or--awake, it's
nothing but you, you, _you_! It will never be different: I don't
know why I can't get over it--I only know I can't. You own me; you
burn like a hot coal in my heart. You're through with me, I know.
You drained me dry. You're like a child who eats so heartily of
what he likes that he never touches it again. And I'm a dish
you're sick of. Oh, it's all plain enough, I can tell you. I'm not
exciting any more--no, just a nauseous slave!"
"Do you want people to hear you?" she inquired angrily, for his
voice had risen.
He tempered his tone. "Cora, when you liked me you went a pretty
clipping gait with me," he said, trembling even more than before.
"But you're infinitely more infatuated with this Toreador of a
Corliss than you were with me; you're lost in him; you're slaving
for him as I would for you. How far are you going with----"
"Do you want me to walk away and leave you?" she asked, suddenly
sitting up straight and looking at him with dilating eyes. "If you
want a `scene'----"
"It's over," he said, more calmly. "I know now how dangerous the
man is. Of course you will tell him I said that." He laughed
quietly. "Well--between a dangerous chap and a desperate one, we
may look for some lively times! Do you know, I believe I think
about as continuously of him, lately, as I do of you. That's why I
put almost my last cent into his oil company, and got what may be
almost my last dance with you!"
"I wouldn't call it `almost' your last dance with me!" she
returned icily. "Not after what you've said. I had a foolish idea
you could behave--well, at least decently."
"Did Corliss tell you that I insulted him in his rooms at the
hotel?"
"You!" She laughed, genuinely. "I see him letting you!"
"He did, however. By manner and in speech I purposely and
deliberately insulted him. You'll tell him every word of this, of
course, and he'll laugh at it, but I give myself the pleasure of
telling you. I put the proposition of an `investment' to him in a
way nobody not a crook would have allowed to be smoothed over--and
he allowed it to be smoothed over. He ate it! I felt he was a
swindler when he was showing Richard Lindley his maps and papers,
and now I've proved it to myself, and it's worth the price."
Often, when they had danced, and often during this interview, his
eyes lifted curiously to the white flaming crescent in her hair;
now they fixed themselves upon it, and in a flash of divination he
cried: "You wear it for me!"
She did not understand. "Finished raving?" she inquired.
"I gave Corliss a thousand dollars," he said, slowly. "Considering
the fact that it was my last, I flatter myself it was not
unhandsomely done--though I may never need it. It has struck me
that the sum was about what a man who had just cleaned up fifty
thousand might regard as a sort of `extra'--`for lagniappe'--and
that he might have thought it an appropriate amount to invest in a
present some jewels perhaps--to place in the hair of a pretty
friend!"
She sprang to her feet, furious, but he stood in front of her and
was able to bar the way for a moment.
"Cora, I'll have a last word with you if I have to hold you," he
said with great rapidity and in a voice which shook with the
intense repression he was putting upon himself. "We do one thing
in the South, where I came from. We protect our women----"
"This looks like it! Keeping me when----"
"I love you," he said, his face whiter than she had ever seen it.
"I love you! I'm your dog! You take care of yourself if you want
to take care of anybody else! As sure as----"
"My dance, Miss Madison." A young gentleman on vacation from the
navy had approached, and, with perfect unconsciousness of what he
was interrupting, but with well-founded certainty that he was
welcome to the lady, urged his claim in a confident voice. "I
thought it would never come, you know; but it's here at last and
so am I." He laughed propitiatingly.
Ray yielded now at once. She moved him aside with her gloved
forearm as if he were merely an awkward stranger who unwittingly
stood between her and the claiming partner. Carrying the gesture
farther, she took the latter's arm, and smilingly, and without a
backward glance, passed onward and left the gallery. The
lieutenant, who had met her once or twice before, was her partner
for the succeeding dance as well, and, having noted the advantages
of the place where he had discovered her, persuaded her to return
there to sit through the second. Then without any fatiguing
preamble, he proposed marriage. Cora did not accept, but effected
a compromise, which, for the present, was to consist of an
exchange of photographs (his to be in uniform) and letters.
She was having an evening to her heart. Ray's attack on Corliss
had no dimming effect; her thought of it being that she was "used
to his raving"; it meant nothing; and since Ray had prophesied she
would tell Corliss about it, she decided not to do so.
The naval young gentleman and Valentine Corliss were the greatest
of all the lions among ladies that night; she had easily annexed
the lieutenant, and Corliss was hers already; though, for a
purpose, she had not yet been seen in company with him. He was
visibly "making an impression." His name, as he had said to
Richard Lindley, was held in honour in the town; and there was a
flavour of fancied romance in his absence since boyhood in unknown
parts, and his return now with a `foreign air' and a bow that
almost took the breath of some of the younger recipients. He was,
too, in his way, the handsomest man in the room; and the smiling,
open frankness of his look, the ready cordiality of his manner,
were found very winning. He caused plenty of flutter.
Cora waited till the evening was half over before she gave him any
visible attention. Then, during a silence of the music, between
two dances, she made him a negligent sign with her hand, the
gesture of one indifferently beckoning a creature who is certain
to come, and went on talking casually to the man who was with her.
Corliss was the length of the room from her, chatting gayly with a
large group of girls and women; but he immediately nodded to her,
made his bow to individuals of the group, and crossed the vacant,
glistening floor to her. Cora gave him no greeting whatever; she
dismissed her former partner and carelessly turned away with
Corliss to some chairs in a corner.
"Do you see that?" asked Vilas, leaning over the balcony railing
with Richard Lindley. "Look! She's showing the other girls--don't
you see? He's the New Man; she let 'em hope she wasn't going in
for him; a lot of them probably didn't even know that she knew
him. She sent him out on parade till they're all excited about
him; now she shows 'em he's entirely her property--and does it so
matter-of-factly that it's rubbed in twice as hard as if she
seemed to take some pains about it. He doesn't dance: she'll sit
out with him now, till they all read the tag she's put on him. She
says she hates being talked about. She lives on it!--so long as
it's envious. And did you see her with that chap from the navy?
Neptune thinks he's dallying with Venus perhaps, but he'll
get----"
Lindley looked at him commiseratingly. "I think I never saw
prettier decorations. Have you noticed, Ray? Must have used a
thousand chrysanthemums."
"Toreador!" whispered the other between his teeth, looking at
Corliss; then, turning to his companion, he asked: "Has it
occurred to you to get any information about Basilicata, or about
the ancestral domain of the Moliterni, from our consul-general at
Naples?"
Richard hesitated. "Well--yes. Yes, I did think of that. Yes, I
thought of it."
"But you didn't do it."
"No. That is, I haven't yet. You see, Corliss explained to me
that----"
His friend interrupted him with a sour laugh. "Oh, certainly! He's
one of the greatest explainers ever welcomed to our city!"
Richard said mildly: "And then, Ray, once I've gone into a thing
I--I don't like to seem suspicious."
"Poor old Dick!" returned Vilas compassionately. "You kind, easy,
sincere men are so conscientiously untruthful with yourselves. You
know in your heart that Cora would be furious with you if you
seemed suspicious, and she's been so nice to you since you put in
your savings to please her, that you can't bear to risk offending
her. She's twisted you around her little finger, and the unnamed
fear that haunts you is that you won't be allowed to stay
there--even twisted!"
"Pretty decorations, Ray," said Richard; but he grew very red.
"Do you know what you'll do," asked Ray, regarding him keenly, "if
this Don Giovanni from Sunny It' is shown up as a plain
get-rich-quick swindler?"
"I haven't considered----"
"You would do precisely," said Ray, "nothing! Cora'd see to that.
You'd sigh and go to work again, beginning at the beginning where
you were years ago, and doing it all over. Admirable resignation,
but not for me! I'm a stockholder in his company and in shape to
`take steps'! I don't know if I'd be patient enough to make them
legal--perhaps I should. He may be safe on the legal side. I'll
know more about that when I find out if there is a Prince
Moliterno in Naples who owns land in Basilicata."
"You don't doubt it?"
"I doubt everything! In this particular matter I'll have less to
doubt when I get an answer from the consul-general. _I_'ve
written, you see."