III
Caswell got into the taxi after her and slammed the door.
“Oh, Pem!” he said. “Pem, you wonderful girl!”
“You know you really are silly!” she protested.
“Then I hope to Heaven I’ll never be anything else! I’d give all the common sense and prudence and so on in the world for one night like this. Hang being sensible, anyhow! Let’s be silly, Pem!”
“I am—I have been—sillier than I ever was before in my life. Don’t, Arthur!”
She felt obliged to object to his putting his arm about her shoulders and kissing her—a very unconvincing little objection, however, to which he paid no attention.
“You do love me, don’t you, Pem?” he asked, and waited a long time. “Pem! I say, Pem! You do love me, don’t you?”
“Oh, I really don’t know!” she cried impatiently.
Was it love, she thought? It was not in any way the love she had felt before—not that strange and terrible thing, half pride, half humility, half anguish and half ecstasy.
“That couldn’t ever come again,” she thought.
It had been her consolation for so long, that never again would that intolerable emotion stir her heart. After she had lost that one man, there wasn’t another walking the earth who could capture her interest—until this evening.
She couldn’t understand the glamour that enveloped young Caswell, the inexplicable charm of him. He was neither very handsome nor very clever—just an ordinary nice-looking boy; and yet, when he said that he would give all the common sense and prudence and so on in the world for one night like this, she agreed with him in her heart.
They had gone to a restaurant and danced, they had taken a taxicab to another restaurant and danced again, they had had supper—that was all there was to it. It was simply one of those brainless “parties” so dear to Nickie—with too much drinking on the part of the men, too much smoking, the stupidest sort of talk and laughter. Then why had it been so beautiful? Because of that boy’s glance which always followed her, that look on his face, his fervent, halting love-making?
Suddenly she stopped trying to reason about it. It was beautiful. She had been utterly happy again; she was happy now.
“Pem!” he said. “Oh, Pem! Can’t you tell me? I’m going away, you know.”
His voice broke, she felt the arm about her shoulders tremble a little, and her eyes filled with tears.
“I’m afraid I do love you,” she said.
She gave him one kiss, and then, with a little laugh, pushed him away.
“Don’t talk any more about it—not now,” she said. “Look! The sky’s getting light. It’s morning.”
“And I’m due on board at ten o’clock,” he said. “I’ll come back to you, Pem.[Pg 143] Pem, you won’t forget me? You won’t—you couldn’t, could you, Pem?”
“I don’t think so,” she answered.
The taxi had stopped before the apartment house, where Nickie and the two other boys, just arrived, were waiting for them in the street. A pallid light was spreading in the sky, and a strange quiet lay over the city. Trucks rumbled far away, but there wasn’t a voice or a footstep. The street lamps still burned wanly.
“It’s time for breakfast,” suggested one of the boys. “Let’s go to a beanery and have something to eat.”
“No!” said Pem sharply. “We’ve had enough. Good-by! Come on, Nickie!”
For she had seen on Nickie’s face something that hurt her—something that she had often seen in the mirror, reflected in her own eyes.