IV
No one knew better than Miss Elsie Longstaff herself that, at that very moment, it was touch and go with the gentleman who has been somewhat unfairly introduced to us as Pink Egg. Mr.¬ÝHerbert Dulver was a gentleman friend of some two years‚Äô standing, though for the greater part of that time he had occupied a lowly place in the hierarchy of Elsie‚Äôs gentlemen friends. Indeed, there had been periods when he had been as completely out of mind as he was out of sight. Shortly after the Good Companions had arrived at The Triangle, however, Mr.¬ÝDulver had turned up again, for he was managing an hotel owned by his father, a substantial old place about fifteen miles out of Gatford and on the main London road. All the Dulvers‚ÅÝ‚Äîlarge, pink, and brassily cheerful persons‚ÅÝ‚Äîwere landlords or bookmakers of something convivial or sporting. Herbert had been managing an hotel at the seaside when Elsie had first made his acquaintance, and now, having acquired in a mysterious Dulverish manner a considerable sum of money, he proposed not only to manage but also to own another seaside hotel. He was a bachelor about forty who liked to clothe his pink plumpness in sporting tweeds, wore a fair clipped moustache, and looked at the world out of prominent light-blue eyes that had about them a kind of hard amiability. His manner and phraseology suggested the confidential, but his voice was loud and carried far and he made full use of it, so that he always gave the odd impression that he was bellowing out his innermost secrets. Actually, however, he had no difficulty in keeping to himself whatever was best known only to himself, and was in reality a far more astute man of business than he appeared to be, like all the Dulvers, who for several generations now had been ordering drinks all round and slapping everybody on the back and talking at the top of their voices while they quietly contrived to feather their nests. And this Mr.¬ÝDulver had the traditional attitude towards women. Outside business, in which he demanded and took care to receive his money‚Äôs worth, he was very chivalrous and gallant towards ‚Äúthe Ladies,‚Äù and both masterful and saucy with ‚Äúthe Girls.‚Äù Elsie, who liked being one of the Ladies and one of the Girls too, understood and appreciated both these attitudes, but that did not prevent her from telling herself from the first that Mr.¬ÝDulver would want watching. Not that this stood in his way at all, for in her heart of hearts Elsie admired a man who wanted watching.
Mr.¬ÝDulver had run her out in his little car to the hotel for lunch, and now they had stopped on the way back, at a spot on the side of the road where a mound of hill and a little copse sheltered them from the tearing wind. There they lit their cigarettes and Elsie waited expectantly. She knew only too well that Mr.¬ÝDulver had news for her and that this afternoon might decide everything. Miles of soft Midland landscape, brown fields, the glitter of water, the swirl of smoke, the grey distance, were spread before them, but she had no eyes for it all, for the real world had narrowed to those few square inches, pinker than ever, that represented the outward map of Mr.¬ÝDulver‚Äôs mind and where there might soon be seen the signals of victory or defeat.
“Well,” she cried, turning to look him full in the face and pouting a little, “aren’t you going to tell me? I’ve been thinking about how you were getting on down there all the weekend. Course, if you don’t want to tell, it doesn’t matter. I just wondered, that’s all.” Elsie was cleared for action. Every sentence now would be a well-aimed shot from a different turret.
‚ÄúI was waiting,‚Äù replied Mr.¬ÝDulver. ‚ÄúDidn‚Äôt want to say anything in there. Between you and me, I‚Äôm thinking of taking it.‚Äù
“You are?” she exclaimed in glad surprise, very much the bright, friendly, interested woman. “I’m glad, Bert; I really am.” Were her eyes shining, or were they just staring, bulging out, silly?
Bert looked pleased and important. ‚ÄúIt‚Äôs a good little house, twenty bedrooms‚ÅÝ‚Äîmight easily put in a few more, make an annex, easy. Good smoke-room and bar trade too, though it wants working up a bit. Summer‚Äôs money for dust, of course, but fair number staying in winter, specially weekends. Golf, y‚Äôknow, and fishing. Bang opposite the pier too‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Opposite the pier!” cried Elsie, reproachfully. “Don’t I know it is? Haven’t I played Eastbeach, year before last, and on the very pier? What’s the good of telling you anything, Bert? You never listen.” And she gave him a companionable tap.
“That’s right,” he said apologetically. “I’m that full of it, I’m forgetting you’ve been there, Elsie. Well, they want four thousand, lock, stock, and barrel, except the usual takeovers. As I say, it wants working up, mind you.”
“You could do that all right,” she told him.
“I could eat it,” he proclaimed. “I tell you, I like the look of it, like the town too. Not far from London, either. Good road. Run up now and again and see what’s doing.” He clicked his tongue appreciatively and looked doggish.
“You would!” cried Elsie, who knew her cues. “You leave London alone. Time you behaved yourself, if you ask me.”
“Something in that,” he admitted, “though we’ve all got to have a bit of fun, haven’t we?”
“That’s what I always tell them. We’re a long time dead, I say.”
He looked at her admiringly and the arm resting on the back of the seat behind her came a little closer. “You know what’s what and you’ve been to Eastbeach,” he said. “Honestly now, what d’you think of it, Elsie?”
“You don’t want to know what I think of it.”
“Don’t I? Well, what am I asking you for? Brought you out here to hear what you think about it. Come on, Elsie, let’s have it, straight from the horse’s mouth.”
“Who are you calling a horse!”
‚ÄúNot you.‚Äù The arm was resting on her shoulders now. The little moustache came nearer. There was a kind of mistiness about Mr.¬ÝDulver as he gazed at this fair ripeness, which was exactly his taste in feminine charm.
Elsie averted the kiss that she knew would inevitably have descended upon her a moment later, but she did it easily and quietly by drawing away ever so little and suddenly looking serious, businesslike. ‚ÄúWell, I‚Äôll tell you what I think about it, Bert, if you‚Äôll only be sensible for a minute,‚Äù she began; and thereupon told him why she approved of Eastbeach and the hotel there, showing him quite plainly, if he only had the sense to see it, that she was a girl with her wits about her who knew what the hotel business was, even if she did happen to be on the stage. And all the time her imagination, dizzy as it was, still explored the possibility. She saw herself in that hotel, Mrs.¬ÝDulver, telling the maids what to do; queening it for half an hour now and again in the saloon bar, hair always waved and good clothes; shopping in style‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚ÄúGood morning. Madam‚Äù; recognized by all the gentlemen in the town‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚ÄúGood afternoon, Mrs.¬ÝDulver‚Äù‚ÅÝ‚Äîraising their hats; having a word with the girls who came to the pier pavilion‚ÅÝ‚Äînot standoffish or rubbing it in but still‚ÅÝ‚Äîpitying them; taking little trips to London with Bert in the car‚ÅÝ‚Äîa bigger one by this time; going round the shops and doing a show‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äúused to be in the profession myself, once, my dear‚Äù; the whole rich future. And a word or two could make it hers. ‚ÄúOf course you know better than I do, Bert‚ÅÝ‚Äîa girl isn‚Äôt much of a judge of these things, though I know a bit more than most‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut that‚Äôs my honest opinion. You go in and buy the place.‚Äù
‚ÄúGoing to,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝDulver complacently. ‚ÄúDecided that first thing this morning, matter of fact, but just wanted to hear what you thought about it. And I‚Äôll tell you what it is, Elsie, old kid‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Old kid! What next!”
‚ÄúYou‚Äôve got it where it‚Äôs wanted,‚Äù he continued, tapping his forehead. ‚ÄúUsed to think you‚Äôd just got the looks and style and nothing else to it‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Thank you, sir, she said,” cried Elsie. “Very good of you to admit the looks, I must say, Mister Dulver,” But she smiled at him very sweetly.
The arm tightened round her and the now amorous Bert tried to kiss her. To his surprise, however, for he had kissed her before she repulsed him, firmly if gently. “Hello! Hel‑low!” He drew back and looked at her. “We aren’t very matey today, are we? What have I done wrong?”
Knowing very well that the slightest chill would ruin all and yet realizing that now or never was the time when he must not have his own way too easily, Elsie felt as if she was walking on a tightrope. She smiled again; a little one this time, a bit mysterious. “You never do anything wrong, do you?” she remarked lightly. “But there isn’t anything wrong. Honestly, there isn’t. I’m enjoying myself. Aren’t you?” And she looked at him archly.
‚ÄúNot sure about that,‚Äù Mr.¬ÝDulver muttered, not so certain of himself and everything else as he had been a few minutes before. ‚ÄúHere, though‚Äù‚ÅÝ‚Äîand the arm tightened again‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äúwhat about‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúGoing home?‚Äù she put in quickly. It was a terrible risk. If he said‚ÅÝ‚Äîand she could almost hear him saying it already, in a flash‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚ÄúAll right, let‚Äôs go home then,‚Äù then it was all over. Awful!
‚ÄúI‚Äôm going to say something to you,‚Äù said Bert, severely and importantly. Bless him!‚ÅÝ‚Äîit didn‚Äôt matter now how severe and important he liked to sound. ‚ÄúHave you ever thought,‚Äù he continued with great deliberation, ‚Äúof abandoning your stage career? Wait a minute. I mean, to get married.‚Äù
“Oh, I’ve been proposed to a good few times, I don’t mind telling you,” cried Elsie, who didn’t mind telling him.
“No doubt. Suppose you were asked now, though?”
“Depends on who did the asking.”
“I’m doing the asking.”
“You try me.”
‚ÄúGo on then. What d‚Äôyou say? Coming to Eastbeach as Mrs.¬ÝDulver of the Black Horse?‚Äù
‚ÄúOh, Bert‚ÅÝ‚Äî! Are you sure‚ÅÝ‚Äî?‚Äù
“Shouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.”
Then Mr.¬ÝDulver found himself being kissed. Into that kiss went a whole captured ecstatic vision of the future and a glorious farewell to cheap lodgings, bad meals, old clothes, cramped dressing-rooms, bored audiences, and long Sundays in the train; and it took his breath away, almost frightened him. But not for long. Bert was delighted. He may have been a Dulver‚ÅÝ‚Äîwith something hard, brassy, behind those curving pink cheeks and prominent light-blue eyes‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut nevertheless he was a member of the sentimental sex, and now he moaned over her like any lovesick lad. He must be in the Eastbeach hotel before the season began, and they must be married before he went to Eastbeach, even if it would be a rush. To all of this Elsie gave an instant and rapturous assent.
Then her mind went racing through all the possibilities and complications. “But look here, Bert,” she said, looking very solemn, “if it’s going to be as soon as all that, it’ll be awkward.”
“Not it,” he replied masterfully, holding her tight. “You leave it to me. I’ll fix it. We’re used to these things in the hotel business.”
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs all right, but‚Äù‚ÅÝ‚Äîshe was genuinely troubled now‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äúwell, I‚Äôve nothing ready, and‚ÅÝ‚Äîoh, you might as well know‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚Äôm completely broke, will be for weeks.‚Äù
‚ÄúNothing in that. I knew you couldn‚Äôt have much, from what you said. I‚Äôll fix that too‚ÅÝ‚Äîstand all the exes. You tell me what you want. Might as well do it properly while we‚Äôre at it, what d‚Äôyou say?‚Äù
What could she say‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhat were mere words‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhen she saw him shining there like a god? But when the car was headed for Gatford again, she never stopped talking, and he listened with a proud air of proprietorship. At Mohen‚Äôs, the large jewellers‚Äô in Victoria Street, he pulled up, saying ‚ÄúThis is where you get the ring. Got to have a ring.‚Äù Seeing that their marriage was to take place almost at once, other men might have thought an engagement-ring unnecessary, but that was not the Dulvers‚Äô way; what there was to be done had to be done‚ÅÝ‚Äîin style. You never saw any Mrs.¬ÝDulver without her full complement of rings. And Elsie, who was undoubtedly a born Mrs.¬ÝDulver, admired her Bert all the more for this grand decision. ‚ÄúYou‚Äôll have to come in,‚Äù he told her, ‚Äúto see what you fancy and try ‚Äôem on.‚Äù
“You go first, Bert,” she replied. “Have a look round.” She had no idea what he would care “to run to” in this matter of rings.
He disappeared into the shop, and she remained in the car for a moment, then got out, looking at the passersby with the assured stare of an engaged woman.
“Eh, I’ve been looking for you,” said a familiar voice.
‚ÄúMr.¬ÝOakroyd!‚Äù She smiled upon him. She even smiled upon his companion, a thickset, bowlegged man, who wore an immense green cap.
‚ÄúAy,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝOakroyd. ‚ÄúMiss Trant wants you to bring that there red dress wi‚Äô thingumbobs on‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou knaw which it is‚ÅÝ‚Äîround to t‚Äôthe‚Äëater tonight.‚Äù
‚ÄúAll right,‚Äù replied Elsie indifferently. She had almost forgotten the existence of Miss Trant, the dress, and the theatre. ‚ÄúYou won‚Äôt see me in that much longer, Mr.¬ÝOakroyd. I‚Äôm giving Miss Trant my notice tonight. I‚Äôm getting married‚ÅÝ‚Äîquite soon.‚Äù
‚ÄúNay, you don‚Äôt say!‚Äù cried Mr.¬ÝOakroyd. ‚ÄúWell, well! I did hear you were doing a bit o‚Äô courting in t‚Äôdistrict. I‚Äôve seen him, haven‚Äôt I? It‚Äôs t‚Äôchap as comes round for you, him i‚Äô flight suits as keeps pub somewhere, isn‚Äôt it?‚Äù
The chap himself put in an appearance at that very moment. ‚ÄúBert,‚Äù cried Elsie, ‚Äúthis is Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, our props man. I‚Äôve just been telling him.‚Äù
‚ÄúHope to see you at the wedding, Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, drinking our health,‚Äù cried Mr.¬ÝDulver affably.
‚ÄúGood enough! I‚Äôll be there,‚Äù Mr.¬ÝOakroyd replied. ‚ÄúThis is a friend o‚Äô mine,‚Äù he added, rather proudly, indicating the thickset, bowlegged, green-capped one. ‚ÄúMr.¬ÝJock Campbell.‚Äù
‚ÄúHello! Know that name! Seen you before!‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝDulver, who was very much at home in a situation of this kind. ‚ÄúSaw you last Saturday.‚Äù
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs right,‚Äù replied Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, who appeared to think it was his duty to answer for his friend, apparently a very taciturn man. ‚Äú‚Ää‚ÄôGainst Lincoln City here.‚Äù
‚ÄúAnd played a good game too. If the forwards had only been as good as you backs,‚Äù Mr.¬ÝDulver observed, ‚Äúthe Triangle would have walked away with it. But your forward line‚Äôs weak in my opinion.‚Äù
Mr.¬ÝCampbell, after swaying uneasily, now cleared his throat, preparatory to bursting into speech. ‚ÄúOch!‚Äù he muttered, ‚Äúthey‚Äôre raw.‚Äù
“He means they’re nobbut young lads, new to t’game,” his interpreter explained. “Don’t you, Jock?”
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs about it,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝDulver heartily. ‚ÄúWell, pleased to have met you. Come in, Elsie. I bet you don‚Äôt know what we‚Äôre doing. Choosing the ring.‚Äù And he burst into a loud guffaw, which was answered by companionable if faint sardonic grins from Messrs. Oakroyd and Campbell, who both did something rather vague to their caps and then moved away.
When Mr.¬ÝOakroyd had discovered that he was lodging in the very same street as, indeed next door but one to, the famous Jock Campbell, now left back and captain of the recently formed Triangle United A.F.C., and formerly of Glasgow Celtic, Sheffield Wednesday‚ÅÝ‚Äîand Bruddersford United‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe was very excited. Had he not spent many and many a happy Saturday afternoon at the Bruddersford ground cheering Jock‚Äôs vast and miraculous clearance kicks? But when he also discovered that the great man was not only close at hand but was quite ready to make the acquaintance of an old admirer, to smoke a pipe with him, and take turn about paying for half-pints, Mr.¬ÝOakroyd‚Äôs excitement and gratification knew no bounds. Jock was forty now, and so a veteran, an ancient of days, among professional footballers; on the field he looked old, if only because he had met so many footballs with his head that he was almost completely bald in front; he was heavy and he was slow: but he was an unusually powerful man and his long experience, his guile, enabled him to play a good game even yet, so that though his best days, when fifty thousand spectators roared their approval at him, were over long ago, he was still an acquisition to such a junior club as the Triangle United. He had not been at Gatford long and was not a man to make friends easily, and it was not really surprising that he should take pleasure in Mr.¬ÝOakroyd‚Äôs company. They had a common theme in Bruddersford, where Jock had lived several years; they were both separated from their wives; and they both had a detached taste for football and tobacco and beer and a deep philosophical interest in the chances and changes of this life, though the older of the two, Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, was the more eager and romantic. Such idealism as Mr.¬ÝCampbell had, centred about public-houses: his one ambition now was to do what so many of his successful fellow-gladiators had done, to find a nice little public-house, not too far from a football ground, and turn himself into the landlord of it. A good benefit match might do it. For the rest, he was a man of vast but comfortable silences. Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, as we know, could hardly be called loquacious, but compared with his new friend he was a chatterbox.
‚ÄúYond‚Äôs pleased wi‚Äô hersen nar,‚Äù Mr.¬ÝOakroyd shouted, as they continued their walk down Victoria Street. He had to shout because the wind was making such a din. ‚ÄúShe‚Äôs bin fair sick to get hersen off this long time‚ÅÝ‚Äîand nar she‚Äôs gone an‚Äô roped him in. An‚Äô it‚Äôll just suit her lahdidahing it a bit i‚Äô t‚Äôsaloon bar wi‚Äô all her best clothes on and her hair all frizzed up.‚Äù
‚ÄúAy,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝCampbell.
‚ÄúNot a bad sort o‚Äô chap she‚Äôs gotten hold of,‚Äù Mr.¬ÝOakroyd continued. ‚ÄúRight landlord style, did you notice?‚Äù
‚ÄúAy,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝCampbell. And then, two minutes afterwards he muttered something that Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, who was now very clever at this kind of thing, interpreted to, mean that, in Mr.¬ÝCampbell‚Äôs opinion, Mr.¬ÝDulver was obviously in a big way of business and was not a man to serve pints himself.
They turned out of the main street into a quieter thoroughfare. Here Mr.¬ÝOakroyd chuckled. ‚ÄúPink Egg! That‚Äôs what Soosie‚ÅÝ‚Äîyoung lass o‚Äô troupe‚ÅÝ‚Äîcalls him,‚Äù he explained, ‚Äúand if you nobbut tak a good look at him he‚Äôs a bit like one, more still wi‚Äô his ‚Äôat off. Pink Egg! Eh, she‚Äôs droll.‚Äù
This shocked Mr.¬ÝCampbell into speech. ‚ÄúIt‚Äôs no name that, man, to gie a landlord in a big way o‚Äô business,‚Äù he said solemnly.
Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, well acquainted with his companion‚Äôs great desire and respecting such an ambition, one for heroes, made no reply, and they covered the next two hundred yards or so in silence.
‚ÄúHoo‚Äôs the lass that‚Äôs awa‚Äô?‚Äù Mr.¬ÝCampbell suddenly inquired. He had heard all about Lily in Canada.
‚ÄúNay, I haven‚Äôt heard for a bit, not sin‚Äô I were telling yer,‚Äù replied Mr.¬ÝOakroyd. ‚ÄúSeemingly she‚Äôs doing champion. Allus says so. But I‚Äôd like to see for mysen,‚Äù he added, a trifle wistfully.
‚ÄúAy,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝCampbell. And then, growing reckless as a conversationalist, he said: ‚ÄúAn‚Äô the wife? Hoo‚Äôs she?‚Äù
“I can’t get to know owt. Neither she nor t’lad’ll say. I wrote nobbut t’other day an’ asked ’em right aht if she were poorly an’ if I could do owt. Eh, it’s damn silly going on like that! But it’s my wife all over.”
‚ÄúThey gae their ain gate.‚Äù Mr.¬ÝCampbell brought out from the depths of his own experience.
Nothing more was said until they reached Crimean Road, where they both lodged, and then Mr.¬ÝOakroyd, who had been looking vaguely troubled, returned to the subject of Elsie and her marriage. ‚ÄúThat‚Äôs one going o‚Äô t‚Äôowd lot,‚Äù he said, as if the Good Companions had been together for six years instead of six months. ‚ÄúNar it‚Äôs started, mark my word. Elsie‚Äôs nobbut t‚Äôfirst. More to foller, or I‚Äôm a Dutchman! Happen you‚Äôve noticed it yersen, Jock? Nowt changes at all for some time, and then‚ÅÝ‚Äîall of a sudden, afore you knaw where you are‚ÅÝ‚Äîthey‚Äôre going right and left, and it‚Äôs all to bits.‚Äù
‚ÄúMaybe.‚Äù Mr.¬ÝCampbell ventured.
‚ÄúI‚Äôm down o‚Äô this, I am an‚Äô all,‚Äù Mr.¬ÝOakroyd went on. ‚ÄúI mun hear what t‚Äôothers has to say. There‚Äôs been a summat i‚Äô fair these two-three week.‚Äù
‚ÄúAy, a sicht too much wind,‚Äù replied Mr.¬ÝCampbell gravely. And we will allow him to have the last word‚ÅÝ‚Äîfor once in his life.