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stairs. And when he had found that she herself, and not Leone, was the sufferer, he
had behaved with the natural kindness which he would extend to anyone in trouble.
Upon this, Carline bethought herself of her need to be grateful.
"Chris," she said. "Thank you very much for looking after me."
"If you only knew," he began, and halted, almost stammering. "There aren't any words
to describe how how I've longed to do some small thing in return for everything that
you've done for me."
There weren't any words, also, to describe the intensity of the look which he gave her,
nor the effect which it had upon her. A sorrow crept into her, proving and penetrating
her inner consciousness with a pain that was almost physical. And yet it was a sweet
sorrow, one of those sorrows that touches the heart, like music.
She could not meet his eyes it was the first time ever that she had been unable to
look back with candor into Christopher's eyes. Therefore she took the alternative, and
closed her own eyes, pretending to be drowsy. When she opened them again, some
minutes later, Chris was staring about the room.
"It's good to see the old furniture again," he said. "Do you realize that I haven't been in
this room for years, Carline, not since I went overseas. When I first came home, I was
lugged straight into the basement, of course. The window looks very pleasing from
here, and the balcony."
Carline pulled her wits together to answer sensibly.
"I was charmed by that window when I first came to the house," she said.
"Do you like living in Chelsea, Carline? Does this part of London appeal to you?"
"It enchants me. I wish I knew more about it. I've seen the house where Rossetti and
Swinburne lived in Cheyne Walk, and the house where George Eliot died; and I was
thrilled when I came across the house in Oakley Street where Captain Scott lived. But
I'd like to know more most of all I'm interested in the far-back history of Chelsea."
"I've a book downstairs I can lend you," he offered. "I was looking at it the other day,
and I came upon a curious thing. The old name for Chelsea was Cealchythe and the
word hythe means a haven. Odd, isn't it?"
A haven. A glorious haven. It was odd indeed. But perhaps he wasn't thinking of the
Dante quotation at all. Perhaps his mind was still running on the history of Chelsea,
linking the haven with the river. His face had a far-away look, as if he were listening for
something. It was more than likely that he was listening for Leone's footsteps
descending the stairs. He must be longing for her to find him here, on the ground floor,
having won his way up from the imprisonment of the basement. In his newly-found
strength a new world was opening up for him, and for Leone.
"Well, I must get along," Carline said, and moved from the settee.
Chris rose also, as if to intercept her. "Look here, Carline, must you really trouble about
cooking this evening?" he protested.
"Of course I must. Leone will want her dinner if you do not, and Aldin may come in,
too."
Chris made no more objections. If he thought she was cooking dinner principally for
Aldin, he was mightily mistaken, she thought, as she heard him calling Leone from the
foot of the stairs, and closed the door of the kitchen so as not to overhear what they
had to say to each other.
Aldin arrived in his gayest mood, bringing with him a bottle of Liebfraumilch, as if he
knew there was cause for celebration on Christopher's account; only Carline found it
difficult to seem carefree. Her strange sorrow was still upon her, but she wrestled with
it, and thought she was giving a fair impression of light-heartedness until, on rising
from the table, she found Christopher's eyes upon her.
"Carline, is your wrist throbbing?" he enquired.
"Not in the least," she replied.
Once again she could not meet his gaze, and was thankful to escape upstairs to see
how Mrs. Burdock was feeling. Mrs. Burdock was asleep, so there was no excuse for
lingering. Carline longed to be alone, but she couldn't absent herself from the party.
Upon her return she found herself obliged to hunt for methylated spirit, required by
Aldin for the making of coffee in an elaborate apparatus, presented by himself to the
household but usually kept tucked away in a cupboard.
The aroma was delightful and the coffee very good, and while they were enjoying it,
Aldin produced a square envelope from his pocket and, drawing out two gilt-edged
cards, handed one to Carline and the other to Leone. They were double invitation
cards for a ball to be held at the Dorchester on June the twenty-first by the Couture
Association. Aldin explained that it was going to be a very smart affair, attended by
everybody who was anybody in the dress trade, including important buyers.
"I think you will enjoy it," said Aldin, looking at Carline. "I shall rustle up some nice
young man to make up the foursome."
"Why don't you rustle up Chris?" said Carline. "Chris"' repeated Aldin incredulously.
Carline smiled at Christopher.
"Now that you go upstairs, you'll be able to go downstairs, and you'll be able to get in
and out of cars and taxis. In three weeks' time, you'll be able to go anywhere. I don't
say you'll be able to dance, but you can enjoy the floor show and eat the supper
and talk to people. The Dorchester will be a bit of a break for you."
"It certainly would." Chris looked almost dazed. "I wonder if I could do it. The twenty-
first of June is a fateful day for me, anyway."
"It's his birthday!" cried Leone. "It's the day he comes into his money."
They all laughed when she put her arm round his neck and kissed him. Aldin, too,
extended his hand, palm upwards, and said he'd be glad of a loan. The gesture was
made humorously but Carline had the impression that the request had been made
before and in real earnest.
She told them she was going to wash up the dishes since she didn't want the Vellers'
day to be spoiled by a pile of dirty crockery on their return.
"Let me help," said Aldin.
"I believe I could help," said Chris.
"Thank heavens, there's no need for my services, with so many offers," said Leone. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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