“Yes. That’s not such an unreasonable question. You can’t persuade me that you came just to see me, Teddy.”
“And yet,” he said, “it was partly that.”
“And the rest?”
“Work. I’m a writer. I’ve had a little success. Don’t you remember how I always said I was going to be famous? But aren’t you playing with me? D’you really mean that you didn’t expect me?”
Vashti met his eyes quietly. “My baby-girl told me something. But how did you discover our address?”
While he answered, he watched her narrowly to catch the flicker of any tell-tale expression. “When she was in London this summer, she visited Madame Josephine’s Beauty Parlors. Madame Josephine’s my friend. I’ve told her a good many things about myself; amongst others—— You spoke about dream-persons. I’ve had my dream-person for years—ever since I was at the farmhouse. So there——! She spotted Desire directly.”
Vashti raised her glass: “To our dream-persons; and may they not disappoint us when they become realities.” There was a pause. He trembled on the brink of a confession. The maid entered to change the dishes. When she had gone, he leant towards Vashti. His voice was husky. “When shall I see her?”
Vashti closed her eyes and caught her breath in a quick laugh. “That depends—depends on how late you stay. Desire’s out at Long Island, taking part in some amateur theatricals. She may ’phone me up presently to say she’s stopping the night If she comes back, she’ll have to get some man to drive her, She won’t arrive till after twelve.”
He had a curious feeling of impropriety in discussing Desire with her mother. It was a stupid feeling to have just because, long ago, he had given Vashti his boyish affection. Yet instinctively he felt that he might rouse her jealousy if he laid too much stress on his change of homage. Was that why she was evading him? How much did she know of what had happened? He began to skirmish for information.
Speaking carelessly, he said, “So she’s not gone on the stage yet?”