CHAPTER XXVII--AT MAXIM'S
At the Meurice, Miss Lane gave strict orders to admit only Mr. Blair toher apartments. She described him. No sooner had she drunk her cup oftea, which Higgins gave her, than she began to expect Dan.
He didn't come.
Her dinner, without much appetite, she ate alone in her salon; saw adoctor and made him prescribe something for the cough that racked herchest; looked out to the warm, bright gardens of the Tuileries fadinginto the pallid loveliness of sunset, indifferent to everything in theworld--except Dan Blair. She believed she would soon be indifferent tohim, too; then everything would be done with. Now she wondered had hereally gone--had he done what he threatened? Why didn't he come? Attwelve o'clock that night, as she lay among the cushions of her sofa,dozing, the door of her parlor was pushed in. She sprang up with a cryof delight; but when Poniotowsky came up to her she exclaimed:
"Oh, you!" And the languor and boredom with which she said his name madethe prince laugh shortly.
"Yes, I. Who did you think it was?" Cynically and rather cruelly helooked down at Letty Lane and admired the picture she made: small,exquisite, her blond head against the dark velvet of the lounge, hergray eyes intensified by the fatigue under them.
"Just got in from Carlsbad; came directly here. How-de-do? You look, youknow--" he scrutinized her through his single eye-glass--"most frightfullyseedy."
"Oh, I'm all right." She left the sofa, for she wanted to prevent hisnearer approach. "Have you had any supper? I'll call Higgins."
"No, no, sit down, please, will you? I want to know why you sent toCarlsbad for me? Have you come to your senses?"
He was as mad about the beautiful creature as a man of his temperamentcould be. Exhausted by excess and bored with life, she charmed andamused him, and in order to have her with him always, to be master ofher caprices, he was willing to make any sacrifice.
"Have you sent off that imbecile boy?" And at her look he stopped andshrugged. "You need a rest, my child," he murmured practically, "you'reneurasthenic and very ill. I've wired to have the yacht atCherbourg--It'll reach there by noon to-morrow."
She was standing listlessly by the table. A mass of letters sent byspecial messenger from London after her, telegrams and cards lay therein a pile. Looking down at the lot, she murmured: "All right, I don'tcare."
He concealed his triumph, but before the look had faded from his faceshe saw it and exclaimed sharply:
"Don't be crazy about it, you know. You'll have to pay high for me; youknow what I mean."
He answered gallantly: "My dear child, I've told you that you would bethe most charming princess in Hungary."
Once more she accepted indifferently: "All right, all right, I don'tcare tuppence--not tuppence"--and she snapped her fingers; "but I like tosee you pay, Frederigo. Take me to Maxim's."
He demurred, saying she was far too ill, but she turned from him to callHiggins, determined to go if she had to go alone, and said to himviolently: "Don't think I'll make your life easy for you, Frederigo.I'll make it wretched; as wretched--" and she held out her fragile arms,and the sleeves fell back, leaving them bare--"as wretched as I ammyself."
But she was lovely, and he said harshly: "Get yourself dressed. I'll gochange and meet you at the lift."
* * * * *
She made him take a table in the corner, where she sat in the shadow onthe sofa, overlooking the brilliant room. Maxim's was no new scene toeither of them, no novelty. Poniotowsky scarcely glanced at the crowd,preferring to feast his eyes on his companion, whose indifference to himmade his abstraction easy. She was his property. He would give her histitle; she had demanded it from the first. The Hungarian was a littleoverdressed, with his jeweled buttons, his large _boutonniere_, hisfaultless clothes, his single eye-glass through which he stared at LettyLane, whose delicate beauty was in fine play: her cheeks faintly pink,her starry eyes humid with a dew whose luster is of the most preciousquality. Her unshed tears had nothing to do with Poniotowsky--they werefor the boy. Her heart sickened, thinking where he might be; and morethan that, it cried out for him. She wanted him.
Oh, she would have been far better for Dan than anything he could findin this mad city, than anything to which in his despair he would go forconsolation. She had kept her word, however, to that old man, Mr.Ruggles; she had got out of the business with a fatal result, as far asthe boy was concerned. She thought Dan would drift here probably as mostAmericans on their wild nights do for a part of the time, and she hadcome to see.
She wore a dress of coral pink, tightly fitting, high to her littlechin, and seemed herself like a coral strand from neck to toe, clad inthe color she affected, and which had become celebrated as the LettyLane pink. Her feathered hat hid her face, and she was completelyshielded as she bent down drawing pictures with her bare finger on thecloth. After a little while she said to Poniotowsky without glancing athim:
"If you stare any longer like that, Frederigo, you'll break youreye-glass. You know how I hate it."
Used as he was to her sharpness, he nevertheless flushed and sat backand looked across the room, where, to their right, protected from themas they were from him by the great door, a young man sat alone. Whetheror not he had come to Maxim's intending to join a congenial party,should he find one, or to choose for a companion some one of the womenwho, at the entrance of the tall blond boy, stirred and invited him withtheir raised lorgnons and their smiles, will not be known. Dan Blair wasalone, pale as the pictures Letty Lane had drawn on the cloth, and he,too, feasted his eyes on the Gaiety girl.
"By Jove!" said the Hungarian under his breath, and she eagerly asked:"What? Whom? Whom do you see?"
Turning his back sharply he evaded her question and she did not pursuethe idea, and as a physical weakness overwhelmed her, when Poniotowskyafter a second said, "Come, _cherie_, for heaven's sake, let's go"--shemechanically rose and passed out.
Several young men supping together came over eagerly to speak to her andclaim acquaintance with the Gaiety girl, and walked along out to themotor. There Letty Lane discovered she had dropped her handkerchief, andsent the prince back for it.
As though he had been waiting for the reappearance of Poniotowsky, DanBlair stood close to the little table which Letty Lane had left, herhandkerchief in his hand. As Poniotowsky came up Dan thrust the smalltrifle of sheer linen into his waistcoat pocket.
"I will trouble you for Miss Lane's handkerchief," said Poniotowsky, hiseyes cold.
"You may," said Dan as quietly, his blue eyes like sparks from a star,"trouble me for hell!" And lifting from the table Poniotowsky's ownhalf-emptied glass of champagne, the boy flung the contents full in theHungarian's face.
The wine dashed against Poniotowsky's lips and in his eyes. Blairlaughed out loud, his hands in his pockets. The insult was low andnoiseless; the little glass shattered as it fell so softly that with themusic its gentle crash was unheard.
Poniotowsky wiped his face tranquilly and bowed.
"You shall hear from me after I have taken Miss Lane home."
"Tell her," said the boy, "where you left the handkerchief, that's all."