"And then to bolt away into the very thick of it! That was because you
were _ashamed_! I shall tell _petite mère_ and Théo. But it was an awful
storm, and so fearfully warm afterwards, wasn't it? I couldn't sleep at
all--that's why I'm up so early. I came over to ask you to go up to
Hampstead with me to get some real air. This London extract of air is a
very poor substitute, isn't it? Now don't say no to a poor daughter
whose young man is out of town!"
As she talked, looking casually at the passers-by, she could, so tense
were her nerves, almost hear him think. "She is quite unsuspecting," he
was telling himself, "there is no danger for her, and--it doesn't matter
about _me_. And I am strong and need never betray myself----"
She talked on, the kind of unconcerned nonsense that was, her strange,
new instinct told her, best calculated to quite his vibrant nerves.
"Little child, little child," he returned mutely, "how little you know!
Well--as you are so innocent, why should not I snatch this fearful joy
while I may? It harms no one but myself, and such pain is better than
any happiness on earth----"
"Yes, _ma fille_," he said at length, as she pointed to a barrow of
nodding daffodils, "we will go to Hampstead; it is a good idea. But
first I must send a wire or two. And--you must promise to return to me,
unopened, the note you will find in Pont Street."
Her wandering stare was admirable. "Return unopened? But why? Was
it--cross?"
He laughed aloud, his brilliant teeth flashing. "_Si, si_, that is it.
Cross! You know how stupid I was last night? The coming storm--well--it
was a silly note, and you will return it."
"Oh, of course, if you wish me to," she answered carelessly, but
clenching her hands. "_C'est une boutade comme une autre!_"
He laughed again. His spirits were flying upwards like those of a
criminal unexpectedly reprieved.
"Yes--just a fad. Hi, cab_bee_, stop here, will you?"
While he was in the telegraph-office Brigit allowed her muscles to relax
and her face to express her hitherto rigidly concealed triumph.
He was not going. He would stay; she should continue to see him, and the
world was full of joy. "Heavens, how I can lie," she whispered softly,
"and now we shall both have to lie. We both know about him; he thinks I
don't know; and he doesn't know about me! It is a comedy. Oh, Victor,
Victor, Victor!"
He came out a moment later, seeming to fill the world with his giant
bulk and his astounding radiation of joy. Two narrow-chested city clerks
stood still to stare at him, their pallid little faces blank with
amazement. A red-nosed flower-girl thrust a great bunch of yellow roses
up at him with certainty of sale written all over her. "Roses? Of
course. How much?"
He laughed aloud as he gave her some money and then got into the hansom.
"Hampstead Heath, cabby. At Falaise there are millions of these
roses--see, with the outside leaves wrinkled and red. Oh, Brigit,
Brigit, what a day!"