also were walking, as it was afavourite promenade; and she found herself shaking with emotion as theresult of the disclosure which Gaga had made. He knew. He _knew_. Whatdid he know? And what would he do? Sally laughed hysterically. Oh, lethim do it _soon_! It was suspense that she could not bear. It was theghastly sense of muddle and falsehood that was oppressing her now.Death--punishment--these were things of indifference. It was the fear ofeither that made her torture. To know the worst, to face it, to sufferfor all she had done that was wrong, would satisfy her. But to be keptin this horrible suspense much longer would send her mad. Why had shenot told Gaga the truth? She began hysterically to condemn herself. Sheshould have told him the truth. She should have said that Toby was anold lover, jealous, angry, threatening. Now she could not tell any suchtale, because she had denied that a man had used her name. To confesswould make him disbelieve anything she ever said. Sally shrugged. He didnot believe her now. He would never believe her. Once he was well hewould find out everything. He would suspect her. He would persecute herwith suspicions. He would suspect that she was going to have a baby. Hewould suspect ... he would _know_....
Creeping, creeping into Sally's mind came temptation. She walked moreswiftly until she reached a part of the road which bordered the river.The water was less muddy here. The river looked in this aspect like abig pool of liquid lead. It was less sinister. It carried to her heartno sense of horror. She turned and began to walk back, meeting every nowand then a couple of pedestrians, or little knots of people, or solitaryindividuals like herself, who strolled to and fro along the broadavenue. But it was very dark, and she could not well see the faces ofthose who passed, except when they were in the neighbourhood of a light.She did not recognise anybody; and when she came once more to the bridgeshe did not tarry, but walked straight across it. Upon the face of theriver were reflected the lights of the hotel, for the balcony was nowfaintly illumined, and she could see that the curtains had been drawn atthe corner windows, although not elsewhere. Again unperceived, she madeher way upstairs and into the drawing-room, where she removed her coatand hat and seated herself at the piano.
xxi
But Sally did not stay at the piano. She was restless and apprehensive.She did not dare to strike a note, in case Gaga should be asleep. Andshe could not go into the bedroom. She tried to do so, but she so shrankfrom meeting Gaga after their talk that every impulse held her falteringhere. Instead, Sally went through the door which led from thedrawing-room to the balcony. Only one light was burning, at the fartherend, and this cast such a tiny ray that it threw up the shadows of nomore than a single enamelled iron table and wicker chair. For the rest,everything was in a monotonous grey twilight, bereft of all incidentalcolourings and of all significance. The electric bulb was grimed withage and the action of the air, and the light was quite yellow, as thatfrom an oil lamp would have been. The matting with which the floor ofthe balcony was covered was in shadow. Through the windows Sally couldsee only a blackness in which the water and the opposite bank and thebuildings farther away were all obscured. She went towards the light,and sat here in an armchair, staring straight before her, and thinkingthe one word ... poison ... poison ... poison.
She must have been sitting upon the balcony for several minutes in thisstate approaching stupor, when she heard a faint sound. It was like thebrushing of leaves against a passing body. Her heart quickened, and shelooked quickly towards the darker end of the balcony, near the doorleading to the drawing-room. She could see nothing at all, but hernerves did not relax their tenseness. She could see nothing; but shefelt that something--somebody was there, watching her. Somebody--whomcould it be? Sally knew how deserted the bar was, how easy it would befor a man to slip up the stairs without being seen. She wasdefenceless. If she had been well, she would have gone straight alongthe balcony, to discover the cause of her alarm; but she was ill, andshe shrank back in her chair, watching the pulsing dimness.
Sally knew that there were only two people who could wish her harm--Gagaand Toby. If Gaga had gone out of his bedroom by the inner door he mighthave come round through the drawing-room, and might be standing there inthe darkness. He might have gone away again. He might have found thepoison. In a passion of fear, she rose. If it was Gaga, she would soonconfront him. She would satisfy herself of his presence in the bedroom.She took two steps, and then stopped, her heart frantically beating.There _was_ somebody there.
"Sally," came a sharp whisper. "Sally. Don't be afraid."
It was Toby, hidden still from sight, but waiting there at the dark endof the balcony.
xxii
Sally's eyes flew instantly to the window of the bedroom. All there wasdark. She could not tell if the blinds were drawn or not. She no longerdreaded Toby: she too violently desired to see him, to be in his armsand saved from her nightmare thoughts by a moment's oblivion.
"Hush!" she whispered, and went silently along the balcony. "What d'youwant?"
"I want you." Toby's voice came hissing into her ear, and she saw him atlast. He was standing, a burly figure, in the shadow of a screen, andremained quite still, hidden.
"What did you come for? How did you get here?"
"Went to your house. Frightened 'em." Toby laughed grimly. "Thoughtyou'd got away, didn't you? Well, here I am." His tone became suddenlyferocious. "See?"
"You can't ... we can't talk. My husband's there--in that room. He'llhear. He saw you last night."
"I got to see you," Toby whispered, obstinately. "See? I mean to say, Igot to know what you're going to do."
Sally gave a contemptuous laugh. So he had followed her for that!
"Well, I'm well rid of _you_," she answered. "I see what _you_ are."
"Oh, you do, do you...." said Toby. He gripped her arm. "Not so much ofthat, Sal. D'you see? I won't have it. You belong to me."
"I don't!" But Sally was only waiting for his fierce embrace, andlonging for it. "I don't like you. I don't want you. I've had enough.You let me down."
Toby started. His voice became thick with anger.
"My Christ! Who let anybody down? What did you do to me? Eh? You marriedthis chap. You did it for yourself. Let you down, do I? Oh, I'm a goodmind to kill you, Sal."
Sally shivered. She knew he might do it. He _could_ do it. It was hisnature. But she answered him defiantly, sneeringly.
"Yes, if you want to be hung for it."
Toby was holding her so that her arms were being bruised. He pulled hertowards him, and kissed her again and again. He was crushing her.
"See?" he said. "That's how you belong to me."
"Well, what about it?" panted Sally. "Let me go.... Just because you'restrong."
"You're coming off with me. See? Now."
"I'm not." She was equally determined.
"Now. Can you get your hat?"
"I'm not," repeated Sally.
Toby swung her off her feet with one arm.
"See?" he announced again. "That's what."
"Go on, that's all you can do," answered Sally, savagely. "You clearoff. I've had enough of it." She dived suddenly, and escaped from him.She was a few steps away, and Toby was in pursuit. As he followed, hekicked against one of the little iron tables, which he had not seen inthe half-light, and sent it crashing to the floor. Amid their silence itmade a hideous noise. Sally drew herself upright, terrified intorigidity. This was the finish--the finish. It was all over now. She wasbeaten. She.... And as she stared she saw that the French window of thebedroom was open--had been open, perhaps, all the time,--and that Gagawas standing there, as if he had overheard all that they had said.
"Sally!" he cried in a sharp voice of alarm. "Oh, my God! Oh, my _God_!"
Gaga came leaping out upon the balcony as Toby stumbled on towardsSally. The two men were sharply in conflict, and Gaga's arm was raised.She could see it even in the shadow--the raised arm, and the impact ofthe two bodies. Gaga was in his sleeping-suit, spectral in his gauntnessand his pallor. Maddened, Toby swept his enemy aside with one violentblow that would have kille
d the strongest man. Gaga went down, his headand body thrown with great force against the brick wall of the hotel,and sliding to the ground with such momentum that there was a furtherconcussion.
"Toby!" shrieked Sally. "Toby! You've killed him!"
Gaga lay in the shadow, quite motionless, a horrible twisted bodywithout life. And the two others stood panting in the twilight, staringdown at his ghastly upturned face. Toby was as if paralysed by thesight, his hand sleepily raised to his brow.
A voice sounded from downstairs.
"Did you call, Mrs. Merrick?" And then ascending steps followed.
Sally made a frantic