The Vision of Desire Part 57

"It's about Tony," she said bluntly.

Brett's eyes narrowed, but he made no comment. He waited quietly for her to continue.

"He's told me--I've found out--that he owes you a large sum of money."

He nodded.

"He owes me money, certainly. Whether you'd define it as a large or small sum would be a matter of relative proportion, I should imagine."

"That's it!" exclaimed Ann eagerly. "That's just it. To him, twelve hundred is an enormous sum--a small fortune! To you--it isn't very much to you, Brett, is it?"

"I don't quite understand," he replied cautiously.

"You hold some bills of his--notes of hand, don't you call them?" she pursued. "And they're due to be paid now, aren't they?"

"That is so. Well, what then?"

"Why, it wouldn't make much difference to you--would it, Brett?"--appealingly--"if he didn't pay just yet--if you waited a little longer?"

"I'm afraid I don't see with what object," he returned coldly.

Ann caught her lip between her teeth. Oh, how difficult men were when it came to any question of money! How hard! Hardening all at once into cold and implacable strangers.

"Why--why--" she said entreatingly. "Tony hasn't got the money to pay you with just now, and if you'll only wait a little--give him a little time to pay--Oh, Brett, won't you do it?"

"Wait for my money, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Do you think"--sardonically--"that I'm any more likely to get it at the end of six months than I am at present? If Tony hasn't got twelve hundred now--is he proposing to earn it in the next six months?"

The bitter, gibing note in his voice roused her anger.

"You'd no business to lend it him!" she exclaimed hotly. "He's only young, and you were simply helping him, _encouraging_ him to gamble, when you know as well as I do that gambling is absolutely in his blood. You'd no _right_ to lend it him!"

"I like that"--coolly. "Brabazon plays the fool--or knave, rather"--with a sudden harshness in his voice--"borrowing money which he knows he can't repay, apparently--and it's my fault! Not having enough sins of my own, I suppose you think you can saddle me with Tony's, too. Many thanks." He bowed mockingly.

"You're the older man," persisted Ann. "You ought not to have made it possible--easy for him to play beyond his means. Brett, please--will you give him time to pay? As"--with an effort she swallowed her pride--"as an act of personal friends.h.i.+p to me?"

"You still haven't answered my question. Supposing I agree, supposing I do give him another six months, how is he going to get the money by then--unless that old curmudgeon of an uncle of his sh.e.l.ls out for him?"

Ann shook her head.

"He won't," she said. "I know that."

"Then how is the young fool going to find the money in the time? Tell me that."

"He _will_ find it," said Ann quietly. "I can't--tell you how. But if you'll wait six months, I'll give you my personal guarantee that the money shall be paid."

Brett's eyes narrowed again in sudden concentration.

"_Your_ personal guarantee?"

"Yes, mine. If you'll wait six months--or even _three_"--urgently. "Oh, Brett, you will wait?"

"'Even three,'" he repeated thoughtfully. Suddenly he threw up his head and laughed. "I see it--it's as clear as daylight! I believe"--smiling blandly--"you are proposing to marry Coventry next month. At least, I'm told that's the programme. And I suppose you count on paying off Tony's debt--with Coventry's money. Is that it? What a charming arrangement!"

Ann felt her colour rise till her whole face and neck seemed scorching with the hot rush of blood.

"Whatever the arrangement would be, you may be sure it would be a perfectly fair one," she said steadily. "Nor does it concern you so long as you get the money owing to you."

"On the contrary, it would concern me very much to be paid off with Coventry's money. I shouldn't like it a bit. He's got the woman I want--and he can keep his d.a.m.n money!"

Sick as she felt under the insult of his manner, Ann forced herself into making yet another appeal.

"Brett, please be merciful! Put me outside the matter altogether. It isn't a question of you and me. It's Tony. And"--her voice breaking--"I want to save him."

"I think it's very much a question of you and me," he retorted. "You asked me just now to extend the time of payment 'as an act of personal friends.h.i.+p to you.'"

She was silent, Inwardly writhing under the lash of his tongue. She wondered if Tony would ever know or guess all that this interview had cost her.

"I know I did," she acknowledged at last in a low voice.

Brett appeared to meditate a moment. Suddenly he looked across at her with eyes that sparkled dangerously.

"I won't take Coventry's money," he said deliberately. "But I tell you what I will do--I'll let _you_ liquidate the debt."

"I?" She glanced at him swiftly. "I? How can I?"

"It's quite simple. Come and have supper with me--alone--to-morrow night on board the _Sphinx_, and in return I'll give you back those notes I hold of Brabazon's--every one of them."

"Oh, I couldn't!" Ann drew away from him instinctively. "You know I couldn't do that, Brett."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Very well, then, Tony must pay up--or go under," he answered nonchalantly.

"No, no!" She made a quick step forward. "Brett, it isn't fair--to ask me to do such a thing."

"Isn't it? It's asking very little, I think." His voice vibrated with a sudden note of pa.s.sion. "You're going to marry Coventry. Very well. What am I asking? One little evening out of all your life--to call mine, to remember you by."

Ann was silent. Her thoughts were in a whirl. Here was a way by which she could save Tony--put things right for him. But at what a price! She shrank from the risk involved. If Eliot were to hear of it, to learn that she had had supper with Brett on board his yacht--alone, what would he think--suspect? His faith in her had not stood testing once before, when a pure accident had forced her into a false position. Would it stand now, if she did this thing? If, being Eliot's promised wife, she deliberately spent the evening on board the _Sphinx_ with Brett? She knew it would not. The faith of very few men would remain proof against circ.u.mstances such as those--least of all, Eliot's. The grey, relentless shadow had suddenly swung forward, completely enveloping her path.

"No, Brett," she said at last. "I can't--do--that."

"Then, as I said, Tony must go under"--coolly.

She clenched her hands in an agony of indecision. Tony, whom Virginia had bequeathed to her--whom she had promised to s.h.i.+eld from harm "if it was in any way possible"! She had thought that already she had paid to the utmost in the fulfilment of her trust by stooping to beg mercy at Brett's hands.

But it seemed that the keeping of her promise to the dead woman was to cost still more--demanded the sacrifice of her own happiness, the faith and trust of the man who loved her. Piteously Ann reflected that could Virginia have known how matters stood she would never have exacted the fulfilment of any promise at such a fearful price. But Virginia could not know. And the promise held.