“I was endeavouring to point out,” she said coldly, “that I was the
sufferer. Being fool enough to worship Alfred, I used to wear myself
out—humouring his whim.” She paused dramatically. “Then, again, I used
to leave parties early. He used to say one should be asleep by two. Time
and again I’ve left a dance in the middle so that Alfred could go to
bed.”
“I think,” murmured Captain Rage, “that I should have liked Alfred.”
“I quite expect,” flashed Cicely, “that I should have got on with—what
was her name?”
“Rachel,” said Toby. “And I’m quite sure you would. In fact, I think
you’d probably ’ve been fast friends. The silly part of it is that so
might she and I. I did get on with her—extremely well, until I fell to
Love.” He sat up there and set his hands on his knees. “Still, I’m not
ungrateful. One attack like that does you a lot of good. But for the
doing I’ve had, you’d almost certainly ’ve knocked me out.”
“Do look out,” cried Cicely.
“It’s all right,” said Rage. “Don’t you worry. I’m not within miles of
making love. But I’ve watched you for months, I have; and there’s
something very charming about you. Besides, you’re quite beautiful.”
“As beautiful as Rachel?”
“Oh, much more. Look at your throat, for instance. Oh, you can’t, can
you? Never mind. What——”
“Oh, but I do mind,” said Cicely, wriggling. “This is a perfect
experience. For anyone to tell me I’m beautiful, except as a prelude to
familiarity, is something I’ve never known.”
“Surely, Alfred——”
“Oh, I always had to kiss him, or something. Not that I minded
particularly. I rather liked kissing Alfred. But a compliment without
any sort or kind of corollary is really delicious.” She whipped off her
hat and put her chin in the air. “Don’t you love me like that?”
“Oh, gorgeous!” said Toby. “Now, Rachel’s stockings weren’t silk all the
way.”
Hastily Miss Voile adjusted her frock.
“I was referring,” she said stiffly, “to my profile.”
“Equally lovely,” said Rage. Cicely choked. “I think I like your mouth
best of all. I can quite understand people wanting to kiss you, you
know. That short upper lip brings it, as it were, into the alert
position. It sort of says, ‘Kiss me, you fool. Go on. I shan’t bite
you.’”
“I shall in a minute,” said Cicely, bubbling. “How about my nose?”
“Oh, that’s well out of the way.”
“I suppose you mean it turns up.”
“The best ones do,” said Toby. “Besides, you needn’t worry. From temples
to chin, you’ve got a face in a million. And then you are so sweet.”
“Now, do be careful,” said Cicely. “Don’t spoil it.”
Rage waved her away.
“Try to remember, my lady, that I do not care. I see that you’re awfully
attractive, but you don’t attract me. No woman does. I tell you, I’m
case-hardened.”
“I will try,” said Cicely humbly. “But you must forgive me if I forget
now and then. Of course I’m the same myself. Men mean no more to me than
so many blocks of wood. I certainly find them convenient. I tell you
frankly, I find you very convenient. But that’s as far as it goes.”
“Well, isn’t that nice?” said Toby. “Isn’t it an agreeable reflection
that you and I can consort together, take pleasure in each other’s
company, and remain heart-whole? I’m not much to look at, so——”
“I think,” said Cicely Voile, “you’re very good-looking.”
“I’m not really,” said Rage, “but I suppose you feel it’s up to you to
say something. Any way, we’ll pretend you think so. I’m good-looking,
and you—well, you’re just exquisite. I can admire you and say
so—‘without prejudice.’ You can glory in my homely features—dote, for
instance, upon my ears and tell me how much they move you—without being
misunderstood. Think of the things we can discuss, the interests we can
share, the easy intimacy we can enjoy—all ‘without prejudice.’ Look at
the terms we can use.”
“Terms?”
“Terms. Why shouldn’t I call you ‘darling’? I like the word, and it
suits you uncommonly well. Coming from me, it’s not an expression of
love.”
“I think you’d better begin with ‘Cicely.’”
“I don’t care what you think,” said Captain Rage. “That’s the beauty of
it. If you were to say you’d never speak to me again, I shouldn’t care a
curse. Still, I’ll temper the wind—Cicely. Besides, it’s a sweet,
pretty name. Suits you down to the ground.”
Miss Voile put a hand to her head.
“It’s terribly difficult to get hold of,” she said. “You’re quite sure I
don’t attract you?”
“Absolutely,” said Rage. “If you were to go up in smoke—now, I
shouldn’t turn a hair. I like you as I like a work of art. If you were
damaged or removed, I should deplore your removal: but I shouldn’t come
unbuttoned about it. But, surely, if you feel the same, you can
appreciate——”
“I do,” said Miss Voile quickly. “But then I’m a girl. Men don’t attract
women: they sort of bear them down.”
“Ugh, the brutes!” said Rage.
“But women are always supposed to attract a man. Of course I know you’re
impervious, but when you speak and look so—so naturally, it’s almost
impossible to believe that there’s nothing doing.”
“You’ll soon get used to that,” said her companion. “When you’ve called
me ‘Toby darling’ a few dozen times without a sign of a rise——”
“D’you think you could stand it, Toby? I mean, Alfred used to say my
voice——”
“My sweet,” said Toby, “I could listen to your voice all day . . .
listen. . . . It has quality.”
With that he lay back on the turf and closed his eyes.
Cicely set her teeth.