III
They both jumped and spoke, but Susie’s cry was a second quicker than Inigo’s.
“Married!”
‚ÄúYes, quite a surprise, isn‚Äôt it?‚Äù said the lady who had once been a Partlit. She glittered and jangled and flashed before their startled eyes; her little round mouth looked as if it would never be shut again; her big staring eyes were now dancing with happiness; and though she still resembled a cockatoo, neither cage nor jungle had ever seen a cockatoo so excited, so triumphant. ‚ÄúAnd only this very morning. What a rush, my dear! I haven‚Äôt breathed since Saturday, that horrible, horrible night. Yes, I‚Äôve heard all about it, such a business! If I‚Äôd been a second later getting him away, I really think I should have died. At the time, of course, I could only think about him, but I‚Äôve thought about you all since and felt so sorry. And poor Miss Trant too! But aren‚Äôt you going to‚ÅÝ‚Äîor is that too late?‚Äù
“Of course we are,” cried Susie. “It’s lovely, and I’m sure you’ll both be marvellously happy.”
“Absolutely,” muttered Inigo, who was still rather dazed.
‚ÄúNow isn‚Äôt that nice! Of course it‚Äôs taken you completely by surprise. I knew it would,‚Äù the bride rattled on. ‚ÄúAnd now, my dear, you must be ready for lunch. I think I‚Äôll ring the bell. He should be here any minute now. Telephoning, you know. We haven‚Äôt had a single moment to spare since Monday morning, it‚Äôs been such a rush. There he is, I think.‚Äù She flew to the door. ‚ÄúHere we are, darling, and they were both so surprised‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI knew they would be. Isn‚Äôt it amusing?‚Äù
Susie was the first again. “Marvellous, Jerry!” She was busy shaking his hand. “I’m so glad. I hadn’t any idea what was happening.”
For one wild moment, Inigo, who had not yet come to his senses, saw himself stepping forward to congratulate Jerningham on becoming Lord Partlit or something of that kind. It seemed incredible that Partlit should be merged into Jerningham. ‚ÄúMany happy returns,‚Äù he stammered. ‚ÄúI mean‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou know‚ÅÝ‚Äîbest wishes and all that.‚Äù
“Tharnks, Susie. Tharnks, Inigo,” said Jerningham gravely and without the flicker of an eyelid. He was more dignified, more beautiful, than ever, but his accent was also more fantastic. That alone had been unsettled by these momentous events; strange at any time, it was now wildly alien; and every sentence he spoke heaped up the mangled syllables. “Glard you could cem on to lernch.”
“And we’ve got news for them, haven’t we, darling?” cried his wife, who looked even more excited and happy now that he was here, as if there had been just a slight possibility before that he might never come back from the telephone.
“I should think you have news,” said Susie, smiling and being tremendously woman-to-woman.
‚ÄúOh, but that‚Äôs not all, my dear, I assure you. Lots of surprises for you today. Isn‚Äôt Mr.¬ÝMemsworth coming, darling? Lunch is ready.‚Äù
“Raight, he won’t be lorng,” replied Jerry. “He’s jerst petting through a call to tawn.”
Susie glanced sharply at Inigo. ‚ÄúWhat have we here?‚Äù this glance inquired, but did not stay for an answer. A waiter arrived with cocktails, and for the next few minutes they all sipped and chatted, with one eye on the door. The table was laid for five, so evidently Mr.¬ÝMemsworth was to be of the party. It had quite a festive appearance, though the room itself, the only small private dining-room in the hotel, seemed to have given up hope of provincial social life about 1892. But what the Victoria Midland Hotel could do, it was obviously about to do for Mr.¬Ýand Mrs.¬ÝJerningham.
At last, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth made his entrance. It happened that there was a waiter on each side of the door when he appeared, but there ought to have been at least twenty, to say nothing of an orchestra. Mr.¬ÝMemsworth, however, contrived at once to create an atmosphere in which two waiters looked like twenty. The moment he stalked in, with his ‚ÄúSorry to keep you waiting‚Äù in a rich baritone that went straight to the back of the dress-circle, Susie realized in a flash it was the Memsworth, the great Memsworth, one greater than Monte Mortimer, and known in the profession as ‚ÄúThe Emperor‚Äù or, more familiarly, perhaps ironically, as ‚ÄúThe Emp.‚Äù This was partly a tribute to his managerial powers, for he was the greatest despot in the musical-comedy world, and partly a tribute to his actual presence, his terrific style. Unlike most manager-producers, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth had been an actor himself, having for years played ‚Äúleads‚Äù in musical comedy. Those were the days when the scene of every musical comedy was set in some vague Central European state, when every leading juvenile was a prince in hussar uniform and every principal comedian a baron with a red nose, a squeaky voice, and a passion for ladies‚Äô maids, when every stage was noisy with heel-clicking, hussar choruses, and stentorian announcements of ‚ÄúHis Highness, Prince Michael of Slavonia.‚Äù Night after night, year after year, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth had been some Highness or other, with the result that the manner had grown upon him; he could not divest himself of kingship. And now that he was a manager-producer‚ÅÝ‚Äîand a very successful one, having a sound knowledge of the public taste, an eye for talent, and a very good head for business‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe still made princely exits and entrances, patted people on the back as if he were bestowing an order upon them, and laughed in that hearty manner only possible to great public personages. The fashion in musical comedy had changed‚ÅÝ‚Äîand he had been one of the first to recognize the fact‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut Slavonia, with its soldiers and soubrettes, its waltz-time and impossible scenery, lived on in him. And now, as he came forward to the luncheon table, it seemed strange that he was not followed by two files of baritone dragoons.
Susie nearly choked when she was introduced‚ÅÝ‚Äîor rather, presented‚ÅÝ‚Äîto him. She knew all about him. The Emp. himself‚ÅÝ‚Äîhere in Gatford! But then, of course, Lady Partlit‚ÅÝ‚ÄîMrs.¬ÝJerningham‚ÅÝ‚Äîhad something to do with West End theatres. She remembered that talk in the hotel outside Hicklefield. Those were Memsworth‚Äôs theatres too. It was obvious now. Jerry had married her so that he could star in Memsworth‚Äôs productions‚ÅÝ‚Äîsomething like that. ‚ÄúAnd you‚Äôre on in this, Susie,‚Äù she told herself, nearly bursting with excitement.
Inigo was quite cool, for the simple reason that he did not know who Memsworth was, except that he seemed the nearest thing one could ever get in this lower world to Prince Florizel of Bohemia.
They had not been sat down long when Mr.¬ÝMemsworth looked gravely from one to the other of them, and, raising a fork, commanded silence. ‚ÄúMiss Dean, Mr.¬ÝJollifant,‚Äù he began, in deep, solemn tones, ‚Äúthe other night I had the pleasure of seeing your show here.‚Äù
“When?” gasped Susie.
“On Saturday night,” he told her.
“And I was there too,” the bride put in. “Wasn’t I, darling? And a terrible night it was too, my dear.”
“It was you in the box,” cried Susie.
‚ÄúOf course it was. It was all going to be such a nice surprise. Mr.¬ÝMemsworth had to see me on business, and I said to him, ‚ÄòYou must come and see these clever people,‚Äô and he laughed‚ÅÝ‚Äîthis was on the telephone‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou did laugh, didn‚Äôt you, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth?‚Äù
‚ÄúI believe I was rather amused,‚Äù the Emperor admitted. ‚ÄúBut then who wouldn‚Äôt have been, dear lady? I mean, in my position. New talent in Gatford is not an impossibility‚ÅÝ‚Äîthere are no impossibilities in our profession‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut it‚Äôs‚ÅÝ‚Äîer‚ÅÝ‚Äîan improbability. I think you‚Äôll agree with me there.‚Äù
‚ÄúAbsolutely,‚Äù said Inigo heartily. He was enjoying Mr.¬ÝMemsworth and so thought that this was the least he could do.
‚ÄúBut though I laughed,‚Äù the great man continued, very impressively, ‚ÄúI came, I saw‚ÅÝ‚Äîand I was conquered.‚Äù
Inigo gave a sudden gurgle. “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t help thinking about Monte Mortimer, who came and saw and was conquered too.”
“And I hope he’s still feeling it,” said Susie.
The others stared at them.
“Mai dar Jollifant,” said Jerningham, raising his exquisite eyebrows, “whort is all this about?”
‚ÄúAh, Monte,‚Äù the Emperor murmured. ‚ÄúSo you know Monte, do you? A very able fellow, very able‚ÅÝ‚Äîin his own line of business.‚Äù
‚ÄúYou see,‚Äù cried Susie, ‚Äúhe was there on Saturday too‚ÅÝ‚Äîto have a look at us.‚Äù
“What!” Susie and Inigo began explaining together, and contrived to tumble out the story between them.
Mr.¬ÝMemsworth roared with laughter. It was as good as a baritone solo. ‚ÄúBut do you mean to say he was laid out?‚Äù he demanded. ‚ÄúHe was? Right under my nose too. My dear people, I‚Äôd have given pounds, pounds, to have seen it. Monte! On the jaw, I think you said?‚Äù The room shook with his imperial mirth. ‚ÄúWaiter, the champagne. We must drink to this, we really must. Oh, why didn‚Äôt I know at the time. You made him come up and then he was knocked out. Monte! What a story! Next time I see Monte at the club, I shall go up to him, look him in the eyes, and then simply say one word‚ÅÝ‚ÄîGatford. Monte will be at my mercy. Why, if this story got about‚ÅÝ‚Äî!‚Äù Mr.¬ÝMemsworth raised his eyes, his hands, towards Heaven, and then drank some champagne. ‚ÄúBut, Miss Dean, Mr.¬ÝJollifant, this has its serious side,‚Äù he went on, solemn again now. ‚ÄúAre you tied up with him in any way?‚Äù
“He told us to go to the devil,” said Susie. And Inigo explained about the letter they had received that very morning.
‚ÄúWhat a rude man!‚Äù cried Mrs.¬ÝJerningham.
‚ÄúIt‚Äôs the Oriental,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝMemsworth, ‚Äúthe Oriental, dear lady. Monte is not a sportsman‚ÅÝ‚Äînever was, never will be. I know him well, in business and outside it. A very able fellow, as I said before‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI don‚Äôt know anybody who can put on a revue of the medium-class, semi-intimate, semi-spectacular‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut not a gentleman.‚Äù He turned to Susie and Inigo. ‚ÄúSo that leaves you free. No more Monte! Well, I don‚Äôt mind admitting that I think you‚Äôre lucky. I don‚Äôt say that Monte couldn‚Äôt have done something for you. He could have done a great deal. He‚Äôs made one or two good people. But I can do more‚ÅÝ‚Äîbelieve me, much more. I can put you‚ÅÝ‚Äîthere.‚Äù
‚ÄúAnd will, won‚Äôt you, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth?‚Äù said Mrs.¬ÝJerningham, who was evidently not only happy herself but anxious that everybody else should be happy. A bird of Paradise, not a cockatoo.
‚ÄúI will try, if these‚ÅÝ‚Äîif your friends here‚ÅÝ‚Äîwill allow me,‚Äù he replied majestically. ‚ÄúAs I say, I saw the show on Saturday, and to my astonishment, I discovered that here‚ÅÝ‚Äîplaying in Gatford‚ÅÝ‚Äîin a troupe whose name is entirely unknown to me‚ÅÝ‚Äîare three young people of real, quite undoubted talent.‚Äù He paused, holding them with his eye. ‚ÄúFirst, a young comedienne, who can sing, who can dance, who can act, who has‚ÅÝ‚Äîand this is the great thing‚ÅÝ‚Äîcharm and personality. If she has ambition, as I‚Äôm told she has‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“I’m bursting with it.” Susie told him breathlessly.
He bowed. ‚ÄúSo I believe. That‚Äôs very important, more important every day. Must have ambition, must be ready to work hard, to put your profession first. Society and the journalists are ruining so many of our young ladies. They achieve a little success‚ÅÝ‚Äîand then, what happens? They go here, they go there; their names, their photographs, are in all the papers‚ÅÝ‚Äîvery good publicity, of course‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI don‚Äôt object to it; but they don‚Äôt work.‚Äù
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs true, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth,‚Äù said Susie eagerly. ‚ÄúBut I‚Äôm ready to work till I drop, honestly I am. I‚Äôm not doing it for fun. I was‚ÅÝ‚Äîwas born in the profession.‚Äù
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs what we want,‚Äù he said. ‚ÄúAs a matter of fact, I was myself. Now, second‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI found a juvenile lead.‚Äù He bowed to Jerningham, who blushed for once in his cool unblushing life. ‚ÄúI know all about him now, so I needn‚Äôt say any more. But third‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI found a young composer who can write songs that get across and stay there,‚Äù He turned to Inigo. ‚ÄúDo you think you can write some more like those numbers I heard?‚Äù
‚ÄúI should think so,‚Äù replied Inigo carelessly. He was beginning to feel wonderlandish again, what with Mr.¬ÝMemsworth and the champagne. ‚ÄúAny amount.‚Äù
The great man looked at him in grave astonishment, in which there was perhaps a touch of awe. Here was a very extraordinary young man, who was not at all impressed by the fact that he was about to be taken up by Memsworth. “My word, my boy!” he ejaculated.
‚ÄúHe can too, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth,‚Äù cried Susie. ‚ÄúInigo‚Äôs marvellous. He can just knock them off like anything.‚Äù
‚ÄúThart is so,‚Äù said Jerry, with lofty kindness. ‚ÄúYou can barnk on Jollifant, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth. You‚Äôve nobody writing nambers for you to tech him.‚Äù
“And they eat them, even in the stupidest places,” Susie continued. “You could see that the other night, couldn’t you? But p’raps you couldn’t. I was forgetting that wretched rotten business, busting up the show.”
‚ÄúAh yes. Curious, that, very curious. I‚Äôve not seen anything like it for years.‚Äù Mr.¬ÝMemsworth looked thoughtful. ‚ÄúNo, nothing as bad for twenty years. I don‚Äôt know what you people made of it, but to me it was obvious, quite obvious. Hooliganism, of course‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut organized hooliganism. Somebody must have paid them to do that. The house in general was very enthusiastic. I saw that. Then why should these fellows kick up such a row, and go on doing it? Paid to do it. There for the purpose. I don‚Äôt know who employed them, I don‚Äôt know why they were employed, all I say is they were employed, paid to do it. I‚Äôve seen it happen before, though not lately. I‚Äôve had a lot of experience. You take my word for it. Organized rowdyism.‚Äù
‚ÄúI‚Äôm beginning to think that, too,‚Äù said Susie, ‚Äúand I know that Mrs.¬ÝJoe does. I shall tell Miss Trant, don‚Äôt you think so, Inigo, Jerry?‚Äù
‚ÄúMeanwhile‚ÅÝ‚Äîto business,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝMemsworth, looking as if he were about to give his loyal subjects a Constitution. ‚ÄúI take it, then, Mr.¬ÝJollifant, you‚Äôre free to work for me?‚Äù
Inigo thought so, but put in a word about Felder and Hunterman.
‚ÄúThat can be arranged,‚Äù and Mr.¬ÝMemsworth waved a hand. ‚ÄúLeave that to me. What I want you to do is to see Julian Jaffery, who‚Äôs supposed to be doing the music for my new show or at least putting some new stuff into it. We should want those numbers I heard the other night and one or two others, and then you can set to work on another thing I‚Äôm planning. I‚Äôve got most of the book. And I want you, Miss Dean, to rehearse a big part‚ÅÝ‚Äîin which you‚Äôll be playing opposite Mr.¬ÝJerningham here, and you can work together‚ÅÝ‚Äîin this show that‚Äôs nearly ready. You can take Mr.¬ÝJollifant‚Äôs numbers that you‚Äôre doing now straight into it, though I may get one of my librettists to alter the words a bit.‚Äù He had in hand, it seemed, a splendid new musical comedy, that bore the provisional title The Mascot Girl. It had begun as a French farce, but had been taken to Vienna, where it was transformed into an operetta, which was entirely rewritten in New York as a song-and-dance show; and now, the last vestiges of the original plot having been removed, new words and music were being introduced so that it could blossom out again as an English comedy. Mr.¬ÝMemsworth told them all about it or at least contrived to suggest that he was telling them all about it, for there was not really much to tell. It was obvious that the thing would only begin to have a shape at the rehearsal. Nevertheless, it appeared that Susie and Jerry would have very important parts in it, and that Inigo‚Äôs tunes would soon be delighting or worrying the whole country. In short, their fortunes were made, their ships almost in harbour.
“No,” cried Susie, her eyes dancing, “I really couldn’t eat or drink anything else. If I did I should be sick, I’m so excited.”
‚ÄúSweet!‚Äù murmured Mrs.¬ÝJerningham, and patted her hand.
‚ÄúBut it‚Äôs‚ÅÝ‚Äîit‚Äôs‚ÅÝ‚Äîoh, golly!‚ÅÝ‚Äîit‚Äôs marvellous. Isn‚Äôt it, Inigo? Don‚Äôt sit there, pretending you don‚Äôt care tuppence. Isn‚Äôt it marvellous? Aren‚Äôt you dizzy?‚Äù
“Absolutely,” said Inigo, who was in fact a trifle dizzy.
“I don’t mind saying it’s jerst whort I’ve warnted,” Jerningham admitted. And he gave his wife such a sudden, unexpected and unasked for, altogether beautiful smile that no doubt she felt dizzy too. For smiles like that, she would have bought him whole theatres.
Mr.¬ÝMemsworth, whom the champagne had made more benevolent and regal than ever, so that he sat there like another Haroun al Raschid, smiled upon them all, and then explained to Susie and Inigo that they had better clear things up in Gatford and then report to him in town if possible in two days‚Äô time, and on Monday at the latest. Then he would have contracts ready and everything.
Susie stared at him in a happy dream: ‚ÄúOh, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth, don‚Äôt disappear or anything, will you? I feel as if I‚Äôm sitting in my digs making this up, just to pass the afternoon. In a minute I shall wake up.‚Äù
‚ÄúIt‚Äôs so very nice for you, isn‚Äôt it?‚Äù Mrs.¬ÝJerningham cooed.
‚ÄúNice! It‚Äôs‚ÅÝ‚Äîoh, I can‚Äôt begin. And you‚Äôve done it, Lady‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI mean, Mrs.¬ÝJerningham, and I‚Äôm so glad you‚Äôve married Jerry and I hope you‚Äôll both be happy forever and ever.‚Äù And she flung out her hands, and Jerry shook one, with a solemn ‚ÄúTharnks, Susie,‚Äù while his bride squeezed the other, saying: ‚ÄúYou know, we‚Äôve to go up to town tonight. All such a rush, isn‚Äôt it? But I do adore a rush, don‚Äôt you, my dear?‚Äù
‚ÄúAnd this,‚Äù said Inigo, who had just accepted and lit a large cigar so that he felt almost vulgarly opulent already, ‚Äúis the end‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe very end‚ÅÝ‚Äîof the Good Companions.‚Äù
Susie’s face fell. “Yes, it is, isn’t it? I’d forgotten that. Yes, it’s all right laughing, but it’s rather sad, really. Why can’t we have one nice thing without having to give up another nice thing?”
‚ÄúThat, my dear lady, is Life.‚Äù Mr.¬ÝMemsworth did this magnificently.
‚ÄúI suppose it is, but it‚Äôs beastly all the same,‚Äù said Susie. ‚ÄúOh, and what about the others, Jimmy and the Joes? What are they going to do now, poor darlings? Can‚Äôt you do anything for them, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth? They‚Äôre awfully good, really. You didn‚Äôt get a chance to see them properly the other night.‚Äù
He shook his head. ‚ÄúI don‚Äôt doubt it. I wish I could do something for them. I‚Äôd like to oblige you, Miss Dean, and I like to see people in our profession sticking to their friends. But these others‚ÅÝ‚Äîsorry‚ÅÝ‚Äînot in my line. Too old, you know. Much too old even for the chorus. I might possibly find a very small part in something or other for the little comedian, but really I think he‚Äôd be far better off in his own concert-party work. And the others certainly would. Sorry, but still, they‚Äôll find work all right. Can‚Äôt they carry on this present show?‚Äù
“Nathing left in it,” said Jerry. “All the real tarlent gone.”
“No, that’s not fair, Jerry,” Susie told him. “But there wouldn’t be enough of them to do anything with it. I mean, it couldn’t be the same show, now that half of it has gone. Oh, it’s a shame. They’ll have to find work with another C.P. and it won’t be easy getting into a good one ’cos the season’s nearly beginning.”
Mr.¬ÝMemsworth looked thoughtful. ‚ÄúThe season‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe season,‚Äù he mused. ‚ÄúNow that reminds me of something that was said to me the other day. What was it? Ah, I have it. Bellerby, that‚Äôs the man. Bellerby used to do a good deal of work for me at one time, and I ran across him the other day in town and he told me he was getting a resident concert party together for some resort or other, Eastbourne, Hastings, one of those places, you know. In fact, he asked me if I could recommend him a few decent people.‚Äù
“Oh, but that would be marvellous! Just what they want! Do you think this man would take them?” Susie asked.
‚ÄúA word from me,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝMemsworth, and a wave of his hand told them the rest.
‚ÄúBut how are you‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI mean‚ÅÝ‚Äîwill you write to him or something?‚Äù
‚ÄúMr.¬ÝJollifant, just touch that bell, will you?‚Äù the great man commanded. This‚ÅÝ‚Äîhis manner informed them‚ÅÝ‚Äîwas his way of doing things, and they must now keep their eyes and ears open. The bell brought a waiter, and the waiter was told to bring Mr.¬ÝNurris, who it appeared was Mr.¬ÝMemsworth‚Äôs secretary. Mr.¬ÝNurris was a pallid young man with darkish horn-rimmed spectacles. ‚ÄúLook here, Nurris,‚Äù cried his employer. ‚ÄúCan you remember Bellerby‚Äôs address? You remember him? South coast somewhere. You can, eh? Then take a wire. Wait a minute, though. I must be out of this town by five. It‚Äôs no use him wiring back to me. Who‚Äôll act for these four people?‚Äù he asked Susie and Inigo.
They gave him Jimmy‚Äôs name and address. Thereupon, Mr.¬ÝMemsworth dictated a telegram of theatrical dimensions, recommending one comedian, one conjurer-banjoist, one baritone and feed, and contralto, all experienced C.P. artistes, and asking for terms, dates, and other details, to be wired to Jimmy Nunn. ‚ÄúAnd if that doesn‚Äôt bring a reply by tonight, you may take it from me that Bellerby is either drunk or missing or both. Get it off at once, Nurris.‚Äù
‚ÄúAnd now,‚Äù said Susie to Inigo, after they had shaken hands all round and declared how splendid it all was and taken their leave, ‚Äúit looks as if we‚Äôre all going to be fixed up. Aren‚Äôt you excited? Honestly, I‚Äôm nearly ill. I want to rush up to everybody and tell them all about it. Just think of us sitting there this morning‚ÅÝ‚Äîme, anyhow‚ÅÝ‚Äîgiving it all up as a bad job. And then this comes along. Wouldn‚Äôt it be ghastly if I got run over or something now?‚Äù She squeezed his arm hard, then let it go and laughed.
“You’ve forgotten two people,” he told her, after she had finished happily babbling. “One is Miss Trant.”
“I’m going to see her now, to tell her all the news. And I’m sure she won’t mind a bit. I believe she’ll be glad. And I shall tell her to keep all my benefit money, to help to pay the damages they say they’re going to claim at the measly Hippodrome. It’ll all help, won’t it?”
“A spot,” he replied. “Those damages are going to be a nasty piece of work. I don’t like the idea of poor Miss Trant being left here, with a bad arm and a bill a mile long, while we trot off to town to make our fortunes.”
‚ÄúIf you put it like that‚ÅÝ‚Äîand I must say, Inigo, you‚Äôve a nasty way of putting things‚ÅÝ‚Äîit sounds nearly as bad as murder. But it‚Äôll be all right. Everything‚Äôs going to be all right for everybody, I feel sure it is. I‚Äôve felt so all along. The trouble about you, my laddie, is you‚Äôve no confidence‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúWell, by gosh! I like that,‚Äù he protested, ‚Äúwhen it‚Äôs only a few hours since you were moping away‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúDon‚Äôt talk such rot, Inigo. That‚Äôs the worst of you. You talk such a lot of rot. It must be because you‚Äôre‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhat is it?‚ÅÝ‚Äîan author‚ÅÝ‚Äîno, something worse than that‚ÅÝ‚Äîa man of let‚Äëters. No, don‚Äôt start being cross now, or you‚Äôll spoil everything. Who‚Äôs the other one I‚Äôve forgotten?‚Äù
‚ÄúOur Mr.¬ÝOakroyd.‚Äù
“Jess lad. So I had,” she cried. “What a shame! I haven’t seen him for days. Have you? Oh, something nice must happen to him, it really must. We can’t all just leave him, alone with his bag of tools and his little basket thing. Do you remember his little basket trunk? Wasn’t it sweet? He’s been a bit broody lately too, so p’raps he wants a change like the rest of us. Well, I’m sure it’ll be easy to find him a job. We could take him with us, or the others might be able to find him something if they get that resident job, or Miss Trant might want him to stay with her.”
“Why, what could she give him to do? What’s she going to do herself anyhow?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Don’t be so silly and impatient, young man. Well, this is where we part. I’m going to see Miss Trant. I don’t know what she’ll think about me. Do I look all right, because honestly I feel tight, though I only had one glass of that champagne? And you run along and write another song or two, just to keep your hand in. No, run away. Isn’t it marvellous? See you soon.”
“When?”
‚ÄúTonight‚ÅÝ‚Äîperhaps.‚Äù
He watched her dart across the road and then trip away down the other side, so eager, so happy, like a girl in a shining fairytale. It almost hurt him to see her like that. Something old, unreasonable, stirred apprehensively inside him‚ÅÝ‚Äîa little Inigo that had once looked up from his bone and his bride to see the trampling mastodon blotting out the sky. Then he grinned at himself and walked away.