“That’s all to-night, Mason,” she cried to the chauffeur without.
“Very good, madam.”
A moment later the car was stealing out of St. James’s. . . .
Presently it swung westward at an increased speed.
The turmoil of the day was over, and the ways were empty and silent
under the high stars. Once in a while another car sang by or a waggon
lumbered, but for the most part man and his works had yielded possession
to Fantasy, who had done all things well. The stage of London Town was
set for a masque. Substance was gone, and Shadow was up in his seat: the
streets had become dim, monstrous lanes that led to Mystery, paved with
the sheen of silver, hung with a sable arras behind which Echo hid:
gardens were swollen to parks, and parks to kingdoms: Harlequin was
abroad.
“How can I call him off?” said Rosemary suddenly. “Virginia’s got my
whistle.”
Derry regarded the end of his cigarette.
“I’ll speak to Virginia,” he said, “if you’ll tell me what to say.”
“How can I do that?”
“You’re a woman,” said Derry doggedly.
“I’m not Virginia,” said Rosemary. “And only Virginia knows how she
wants her gruel.”
“Exactly,” said Derry. “D’you think it’s likely that I should mix it
right? I’d ’ve spoken weeks ago but for the fear of doing more harm than
good. An’ if I speak now an’ make the slightest mistake, it’ll be all
over. Give me the Middle Ages,” he added savagely. “The flat of the
sword for her, an’ the point for Roger.”
“Thanks very much,” said Rosemary. “You would come out all right,
wouldn’t you? And after the obsequies I suppose I could begin again.
Still, I agree with half your sentiment. What they both need is the flat
of the sword. The tongue’s too dangerous, the pen repellent and
suggestive. I’m not going to correspond with my husband upon a subject
like this. But the flat of the sword is genially disconcerting and quite
unanswerable.”
“My dear,” said Peruke, “to be eloquent here is too easy. In Virginia’s
absence I can send her to bed without a tremor. And I’ll bet a puncheon
of rum it’s the same with you. And there we are. Our two little
households are heading straight for the Court. If we do nothing, we
shall get there in about a month. If we do the right thing, we shall
heave to. But if we do anything else, we shall get there in twenty-four
hours.”
“I should hate to suggest,” said Rosemary, “that you were being
eloquent.”
There was an indignant silence.