VIII
Ronald Morelle also found satisfaction in apposite quotations from the Scriptures. When he was at school the boys had a game which was known as "trying the luck." They put a Bible on the table, inserted a knife between the leaves, and whatever passage the knife-point rested against, was one which solved their temporary difficulties.
Ronnie had carried this practice with him, and whenever a problem arose, he would bring down The Book and seek a solution. He utilized for this purpose a miniature sword which he had bought in Toledo, a copy of the Sword of the Constable. It was a tiny thing, a few inches in length. Its handle was of gold, its glittering blade an example of the best that the Fabrica produced.
"It is really wonderful how helpful it is, Christina," said Evie, to whom he had communicated the trick. "The other day, when I was wondering whether you would be better for good, or whether this was only, so to speak, a flash in the pan—because I really don't believe in osteopaths, they aren't proper doctors—I stuck a hat pin in the Bible and what do you think it said?"
"Beware of osteopaths?" suggested Christina lazily.
"No, it said, 'Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bone which Thou hast broken may rejoice!"
"My bones were never broken," said Christina, and asked with some curiosity: "How do you reconcile your normal holiness with playing monkey tricks with the Bible?"
"It isn't anything of the sort," replied Evie tartly, "the Bible is supposed to help you in your difficulties."
"Anyway, my bones rejoice to hear that Ronnie is such a Bible student," said Christina.
Evie knew that to discuss Ronald Morelle with her sister would be a waste of time. Ronnie was to her the perfect man. She even found, in what Christina described as a "monkey trick ", a piety with which she had never dreamed of crediting him. Christina was unjust, but she hoped in time to change her opinions. In the meantime, Ronald Morelle was molding Evie's opinions in certain essentials pertaining to social relationship, and insensibly, her views were veering to the course he had set. She had definitely accepted his attitude toward matrimony. She felt terribly advanced and superior to her fellows and had come to the point where she sneered when a wedding procession passed her. So far, her assurance, her complete plerophory of Ronnie's wisdom rested in the realms of untested theory.
But the time was coming when she must practice all that Ronnie preached, and all that she believed. She was no fool, however intense her self-satisfaction. She was narrow, puritanical, in the sense to which that term has been debased, and eminently respectable. He might have converted her to devil worship and she would have remained respectable. Ronnie was going abroad after the trial. He had made money, and although he was not a very rich man, he had in addition to the solid fortune he had acquired through his association with Steppe, a regular income from his father's estate. He intended breaking with Steppe and was in negotiation for villas in the south of France and in Italy. Evie knew that she would accompany him, if he insisted. She knew equally well that she would no longer be accounted respectable. That thought horrified her. To her, a wedding ring was adequate compensation for many inconveniences. The fascinations of Ronnie were wearing thin: familiarity, without breeding contempt, had produced a mutation of values. The "exceedingly marvelous" had become the "pleasantly habitual." And she had, by accident, met a boy she had known years before. He had gone out to Canada with his parents and had returned with stories of immense spaces and snow-clad mountains and cozy farms, stories that had interested and unsettled her. And he had been so impressed by her, and so humble in the face of her imposing worldliness. Ronnie was, of course, never humble, and though he called her his beloved, she did not impress him, or make him blush, or feel gauche. She had more of the grand lady feeling with Teddy Williams than she could ever experience in the marble villas of Palermo. And Teddy placed a tremendously high value upon respectability. Still—he could not be compared with Ronnie.
She had consented to pay a visit to Ronnie's flat. She was halfway to losing her respectability when she reluctantly agreed, but the thrill of the projected adventure put Teddy Williams out of her mind. The great event was to be on the day after Ronnie came back from Wechester.
In the meanwhile, Ronnie, anticipating a dull stay at the assize town, made arrangements to fill in his time pleasantly.
The day before he left London he called on Madame Ritti and Madame gave a sympathetic hearing to his proposition.
"Yes, it will amuse Lola, but she must travel with her maid. One must be careful, is it not so? One meets people in such unlikely places and I will not have a word spoken against my dear girls."