Whatever devastating happenings had been going on in his home, it wasplain a moment later that Gerald had managed to survive them: for therecame the sound of a dragging footstep, and the door opened. Gerald stoodon the threshold, the weak smile back on his face.
"Hullo, Sally!"
At the sight of him, disreputable and obviously unscathed, Sally'sbrief alarm died away, leaving in its place the old feeling of impatientresentment. In addition to her other grievances against him, he hadapparently frightened her unnecessarily.
"Whatever was all that noise?" she demanded.
"Noise?" said Gerald, considering the point open-mouthed.
"Yes, noise," snapped Sally.
"I've been cleaning house," said Gerald with the owl-like gravity of aman just conscious that he is not wholly himself.
Sally pushed her way past him. The apartment in which she found herselfwas almost an exact replica of her own, and it was evident that ElsaDoland had taken pains to make it pretty and comfortable in a nigglyfeminine way. Amateur interior decoration had always been a hobbyof hers. Even in the unpromising surroundings of her bedroom atMrs. Meecher's boarding-house she had contrived to create a certaindaintiness which Sally, who had no ability in that direction herself,had always rather envied. As a decorator Elsa's mind ran in thedirection of small, fragile ornaments, and she was not afraid ofover-furnishing. Pictures jostled one another on the walls: china of alldescription stood about on little tables: there was a profusion of lampswith shades of parti-coloured glass: and plates were ranged along aseries of shelves.
One says that the plates were ranged and the pictures jostled oneanother, but it would be more correct to put it they had jostled andhad been ranged, for it was only by guess-work that Sally was ableto reconstruct the scene as it must have appeared before Gerald hadstarted, as he put it, to clean house. She had walked into the flatbriskly enough, but she pulled up short as she crossed the threshold,appalled by the majestic ruin that met her gaze. A shell bursting in thelittle sitting-room could hardly have created more havoc.
The psychology of a man of weak character under the influence of alcoholand disappointed ambition is not easy to plumb, for his moods follow oneanother with a rapidity which baffles the observer. Ten minutes before,Gerald Foster had been in the grip of a clammy self-pity, and it seemedfrom his aspect at the present moment that this phase had returned. Butin the interval there had manifestly occurred a brief but adequatespasm of what would appear to have been an almost Berserk fury. What hadcaused it and why it should have expended itself so abruptly, Sally wasnot psychologist enough to explain; but that it had existed there wasocular evidence of the most convincing kind. A heavy niblick, flungpetulantly--or remorsefully--into a corner, showed by what medium thedestruction had been accomplished.
Bleak chaos appeared on every side. The floor was littered with everyimaginable shape and size of broken glass and china. Fragments ofpictures, looking as if they had been chewed by some prehistoric animal,lay amid heaps of shattered statuettes and vases. As Sally moved slowlyinto the room after her involuntary pause, china crackled beneath herfeet. She surveyed the stripped walls with a wondering eye, and turnedto Gerald for an explanation.
Gerald had subsided on to an occasional table, and was weeping softlyagain. It had come over him once more that he had been very, very badlytreated.
"Well!" said Sally with a gasp. "You've certainly made a good job ofit!"
There was a sharp crack as the occasional table, never designed by itsmaker to bear heavy weights, gave way in a splintering flurry of brokenlegs under the pressure of the master of the house: and Sally's moodunderwent an abrupt change. There are few situations in life which donot hold equal potentialities for both tragedy and farce, and it wasthe ludicrous side of this drama that chanced to appeal to Sally atthis moment. Her sense of humour was tickled. It was, if she could haveanalysed her feelings, at herself that she was mocking--at the feeblesentimental Sally who had once conceived the absurd idea of taking thispreposterous man seriously. She felt light-hearted and light-headed, andshe sank into a chair with a gurgling laugh.
The shock of his fall appeared to have had the desirable effect ofrestoring Gerald to something approaching intelligence. He pickedhimself up from the remains of a set of water-colours, gazing at Sallywith growing disapproval.
"No sympathy," he said austerely.
"I can't help it," cried Sally. "It's too funny."
"Not funny," corrected Gerald, his brain beginning to cloud once more.
"What did you do it for?"
Gerald returned for a moment to that mood of honest indignation, whichhad so strengthened his arm when wielding the niblick. He bethought himonce again of his grievance.
"Wasn't going to stand for it any longer," he said heatedly. "A fellow'swife goes and lets him down... ruins his show by going off and playingin another show... why shouldn't I smash her things? Why should I standfor that sort of treatment? Why should I?"
"Well, you haven't," said Sally, "so there's no need to discuss it. Youseem to have acted in a thoroughly manly and independent way."
"That's it. Manly independent." He waggled his finger impressively."Don't care what she says," he continued. "Don't care if she never comesback. That woman..."
Sally was not prepared to embark with him upon a discussion of theabsent Elsa. Already the amusing aspect of the affair had begun to fade,and her hilarity was giving way to a tired distaste for the sordidnessof the whole business. She had become aware that she could notendure the society of Gerald Foster much longer. She got up and spokedecidedly.
"And now," she said, "I'm going to tidy up."
Gerald had other views.
"No," he said with sudden solemnity. "No! Nothing of the kind. Leave itfor her to find. Leave it as it is."
"Don't be silly. All this has got to be cleaned up. I'll do it. You goand sit in my apartment. I'll come and tell you when you can come back."
"No!" said Gerald, wagging his head.
Sally stamped her foot among the crackling ruins. Quite suddenly thesight of him had become intolerable.
"Do as I tell you," she cried.
Gerald wavered for a moment, but his brief militant mood was ebbingfast. After a faint protest he shuffled off, and Sally heard him go intoher room. She breathed a deep breath of relief and turned to her task.
A visit to the kitchen revealed a long-handled broom, and, armed withthis, Sally was soon busy. She was an efficient little person, andpresently out of chaos there began to emerge a certain order. Nothingshort of complete re-decoration would ever make the place look habitableagain, but at the end of half an hour she had cleared the floor, andthe fragments of vases, plates, lamp-shades, pictures and glasses werestacked in tiny heaps against the walls. She returned the broom to thekitchen, and, going back into the sitting-room, flung open the windowand stood looking out.
With a sense of unreality she perceived that the night had gone. Overthe quiet street below there brooded that strange, metallic light whichushers in the dawn of a fine day. A cold breeze whispered to and fro.Above the house-tops the sky was a faint, level blue.
She left the window and started to cross the room. And suddenly therecame over her a feeling of utter weakness. She stumbled to a chair,conscious only of being tired beyond the possibility of a furthereffort. Her eyes closed, and almost before her head had touched thecushions she was asleep.
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