Sally Bishop Part 70
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From that they talked on excitedly--one or them driving his questions to the tardy replies of the other. Here and there in their speech the name of G.o.d ripped out, and the waiter, placing the card back on one of the empty tables, stood more alert, listening.
Their cigars burnt low, their coffee was drained; yet still they continued, voices pitched now on a lower key, but none the less intense, none the less spurred with vital interest. The man apparently most concerned had ceased from the urging of his questions.
His elbows were resting on the table, his face was in his hands. Now and again he nodded in understanding, now and again he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed some remark, pressing his companion to the full measure of what he had to say. Obviously it was a story--the relation of some incident, reluctantly dragged from the one by the persistent, unyielding demands of the other.
The woman at the near table put up her hand to her ear, shutting off the conversation of those with her, striving to catch a word here and there in the endeavour to piece it together. It was about some woman. She--was continually being alluded to. She--had done this--at a later date she had done that. Gathering as little as she did, the woman who listened was still strangely fascinated to curiosity.
Then at last a whole sentence reached her ears in a sudden hush of sound.
The man took his elbows from the table, as if the climax of the story had been reached.
"I know!" he said excitedly; "I know--the type of woman who never breaks a commandment because she daren't, yet never earns a beat.i.tude because she can't; but, my G.o.d, if this isn't true--"
Then the other began his reply--
"My dear fellow--should I come and--"
She heard no more. A renewed deafening clatter of plates from the grill drowned the remainder of his sentence.
"There's a little tragedy behind us," said the woman, leaning forward, speaking under her breath to one of her companions. They all turned and gazed in the direction of the table. Then the two men stood up.
One of them picked up the bill.
"Pay at the desk, please, sir," said the waiter obsequiously.
He half followed them down the room. They had forgotten to tip him.
It was quite obvious that they forgot. Yet his face was a study in the mingling of disappointment and contempt. He stood there looking after them; then he chucked up his head in disgust, and catching the eye of some distant waiter, he made a sign of a nought with his fingers, and looked up at the ceiling.
As they pa.s.sed the woman's table, she heard one of them say--
"There's not a straight woman in the whole of that d.a.m.ned set--not one!" Then they pa.s.sed out of hearing.
"I think it's a marvellous thing," said the woman when they had gone, "to think of the thousands of exciting tragedies, romances, crimes perhaps, that are being acted out to their ends all round one, and except for a stray little bit of conversation like that, one would never realize it. I remember hearing a woman in a crowd say something to a man in the most awful voice, full of horror, that I've ever heard.
I just caught her saying, 'If he finds it out to-night, either I'll kill myself or he'll do it for me,' and then they got out of the crowd, called a hansom and drove away. Positively, I didn't sleep that night, wondering if he had found it out, wondering if he had killed her, wondering if hundreds of other people had found out hundreds of other horrible things. But it all went in the morning. Cissy had a terrible toothache, and I had to take her to the dentist's."
CHAPTER VII
It was nine o'clock in the evening of the same day on which Traill had been to see Sally. The lights were burning in her room as Janet approached the street door. Opening it, she walked along the pa.s.sage and began the ascent of stairs. Halfway up the first flight she stopped. The voices of two men, talking rather excitedly, came up to her from the street as if they were nearing the house. Another moment and she heard one bidding the other good night in the pa.s.sage.
Evidently he was coming in. She walked on up the flight of stairs.
His footsteps sounded behind her. She took but little more notice of the fact until, when she stopped before Sally's door, he stopped behind her. Then she turned round. Her eyes opened a little wider.
She began to say one thing; then she changed her mind and said another.
"Aren't you Mr. Traill?" she asked.
He looked at her more closely in the dim light from the landing window.
"Yes; how did you know?"
"I'm Miss Hallard."
"Oh, oh yes! You're Sally's friend."
"'Bout the only one she has." said Janet. There was no flinching in her eyes from his.
"You mean that for me?"
"Yes."
"Would it surprise you to hear me say I deserve it?"
"Yes, considerably. Isn't it a pity you didn't realize that a bit sooner?"
"Well, we must all have disagreeable times in our lives," he said rigidly. "Sally's had hers, but I guess it's over now. I fancy I've just come from school and learnt my lesson."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you expect me to answer that to you?"
Here, in the first moment, they came to their antagonism, as Janet had always realized they would.
"No, I don't expect it in the least" she replied.
"Well, if you're going in--?"
"Yes, I'm going in." She opened the door and entered the sitting-room.
All the lights were burning. Sally's hat lay untidily on the table.
"One moment," said Traill.
Janet turned round.
"I should be glad if you'd allow me to see Sally alone as soon as possible. I want to talk to her. I've got a lot to say."
"I'll go now," she replied.
"No, oh no, see her first. She's probably been expecting you. Didn't she send for you this afternoon, some time after five o'clock--eh?"
"No, I haven't seen her since yesterday. I'll just knock at her door.
Sally!" She called the name gently and knocked. Traill walked to the mantelpiece. There was no answer.
"She must be in," he said, "there's her hat."
Janet knocked again. There was no reply. She turned round.
"I wonder can she have gone to bed and be asleep? She looked terribly tired when I saw her yesterday."
She knocked again and tried the door; then bent down and examined the keyhole. The key was inside, and a light was burning in the room.
Sally Bishop Part 70
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Sally Bishop Part 70 summary
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