"Yes, I've been busy."
"What are you doing?"
"I've been writing a little set of piano songs," he rejoined.
"Good for you!" Breen applauded. "There's nothing like work after all,
and we all seem engaged to that lady at present. She's the best wife in
the world."
Nielsen smiled philosophically, but the tired expression had revisited
Carstairs' face. The trio continued eating their supper, and the
conversation strayed to other and less personal topics.
That same evening, Erna was to meet Jimmy Allen. The hero of Landsmann's
was well ahead of their appointment time, for he was strangely excited.
He had some news to impart to Erna.
She was ten minutes late. He did not call her attention to the fact, but
greeted her boisterously and began: "Gee, Erna! I got great news for
you."
"Have you?" she replied with well feigned indifference.
"What do you think? Nolan's offered to let us have the rooms free for
one month."
"Did he?"
"Sure! What do you think o' that? Ain't he the pippin? Ain't he the
classy guy?"
She did not answer. They were walking slowly. He grabbed her arm.
"What's the matter now?" he demanded.
"Nothin'."
"You said you'd made up your mind," he maintained anxiously.
"I said: not quite," she corrected him.
"Oh, but you have, Erna," he pleaded. "You'll join hands with me? You're
sick o' Landsmann's. You--we're stuck on each other, an' the
minister's--Well, wait'll you see the flat!" he broke off. "That'll
settle it. Wait'll you see the _flat_!"
"Why?"
"I'm takin' you there," he informed her eagerly.
"Now?"
"Of course!" he cajoled her. "You'll come, won't you?" and he squeezed
her arm. "There's no harm in it. You don't have to like the place? It
don't hurt to see it?"
"No."
"Then we'll go."
Erna was busy eyeing a millinery show window.
"How about it?" he questioned.
"All right."
He sighed with relief and satisfaction.
* * * * *
There were two rooms and a bath. The furnishings were fairly
attractive--garish in some respects, but on the whole, adequate. Erna
admitted to herself that they surpassed her expectation, the garish
qualities, no doubt, appealing to her love of life and violent color.
But she made no such admission to Jimmy.
He was watching her with wide open eyes. Gradually, his anxiety forsook
him and his natural cheerfulness appeared. "Well?" he asked quietly.
Erna continued reticent. Neither of the rooms compared with Mr.
Nielsen's, which was so wonderfully cosy, but she could easily improve
them. Her woman's housekeeper instinct declared itself; it would be nice
to occupy herself making changes here and there. And it would be a nice
place to spend a few lazy hours every day, it was such a fine little
apartment. Best of all, it would be her first home.... Erna studied the
large couch for the first time and hesitated. "Stick to your freedom!"
he had advised her. Marriage? No, marriage would not be so nice. Still,
strong, broad shouldered, handsome, happy Jimmy was standing right near
her. She glanced his way.
"Well?" he repeated.
Erna looked away.
"What's the matter?" he asked, and approached a little.
She did not answer.... That other time matters were different. She had
not felt as drawn to him then as she had since his return. His offer of
money that day--well, it had been an honest one: he had cared for her,
and he had been her best friend in those days. She must do him that much
justice. And he was offering her much more now. She hated Landsmann's
more and more. She could not endure the place many days longer. And this
would be her first home. But suppose she should want to change--as she
had done so often before, due to her hatred of any steady existence? Her
hands would be tied. Marriage meant loss of freedom. She cared for
Jimmy, yes, but not quite enough. If she were only given more time for a
decision! Perhaps, Mr. Nielsen would help her to decide. But she would
not ask _him_.
"What's the matter?" Jimmy demanded once more and with returning
anxiety. He came closer.
Erna turned toward him. She cast aside the part she usually played with
him, and gave him the first honest glance he had received from her in
several days. He quickly put his arm about her shoulders.
Erna turned her head away and tried to pull back, but his other arm
found its way about her. "Erna!" he begged for the last time.
She commenced to struggle. His instincts of battle were aroused; and his
exasperation of nearly two years' standing seized this opportunity.
Heedless of her cries, he tightened his grip and pressed her breast
against his with brutal strength. There was a moment of tugging and
swaying. Suddenly, Erna raised her face, and he kissed her mouth with
the same undeniable brutality. The girl no longer struggled. But he
would not let her go.
At length, she tried to break away, but his strength was much greater
than hers. He continued to weaken her, strong and stubborn though she
was, by more unmerciful kisses and embraces. Erna attempted to beat his
breast with what freedom her hands were permitted and not succeeding,
kicked his shins. But Jimmy, laughing with joy and suffering with
passion, hugged her with such finality that she was left powerless.
As usual, that old but simple law of physics, concerning the continued
contact of bodies, was vindicated. Soon after, it was satisfied. Erna
and Jimmy did not rise from the couch for nearly three hours.
Erna was tired, but happy. She looked at Jimmy. He laughed. She laughed
too. And then they laughed together. Suddenly, she became serious.
"What's the trouble?" he questioned.
Erna looked at him differently now, but her seriousness soon fled. After
all, just as posing for Breen had not been quite new to her, so her
present experience was not quite new. Furthermore, Erna possessed
unlimited gameness. Life had never been able to throw her for a long
fall. Therefore, her boldness returned. Jimmy laughed as before, and she
joined him once more.
"All right?" he requested.
"Yes!"
He got up. She watched him dress. He was slow and careless in the
performance. But her attention was absorbed by the muscular play of his
splendid body.
"Well?" he asked smiling.
"Well what?" she challenged.
"What makes you stare?"
"Nothin'!"
"Am I nothin'?"
"Yes!"
He laughed with his usual readiness, and content, turned his back on her
with lazy ease and walked over to the mirror. Erna frowned slightly.
Somehow, his "I" had put her on her old guard. It seemed to spell
property, as did his care-free satisfaction with himself. Erna watched
him with glances sharpened by caution.
But it was necessary to dress. She was beginning to feel chilly. Without
getting up, she slipped on her waist, that had been lying nearby on the
floor.
Jimmy Allen's mood had reached a state of hopeless disregard. He
committed a decided blunder. With cheerful candor, he asked, without
troubling himself to turn around: "Erna! When do we move in?"