"Beryl. You do not need to be told that. Search the ranks of your light women for her beauty, Ronnie."
A girl passed them, a wisp of a girl on the borderline of womanhood. She carried a little bag and was hurrying home from the store where she was employed. Even as he listened to the admonition of his companion, Ronnie caught her eyes and smiled into them—she paused and looked round once—he was still watching her.
"I am afraid I must leave you, John, I've a lot of work to do, and you are quite mistaken as to my character—and Beryl." He left the lawyer abruptly and walked toward the gates of the park where the girl had stopped, ostensibly to tie a shoe-lace.
Sir John saw her pass leisurely into the park; a few seconds later Ronnie had followed. His time was his own, for Evie Colebrook was working that evening, the annual stocktaking was in progress, as she had told him when they were at the theatre on the previous night.
"Rotten!" repeated Maxton, and stalked gloomily to his club.
VIII
Mr. Ronald Morelle's flat was on the third floor of a block that faced busy Knightsbridge. His library was a large and airy room at the back and from the open casements commanded an uninterrupted view of the park. It was a pleasant room with its rows of bookshelves and its chintzes. The silver fireplace and the rich Persian rugs which covered the parquet were the only suggestions of luxury. There were one or two pictures which François had an order to remove when certain visitors were expected. The rest were decent reproductions with the exception of a large oil painting above the mantelpiece. It was a St. Anthony and was attributed to Titiano Vecellio. The austere saint loomed darkly from a sombre background and was represented as an effeminate youth; the veining of the neck and shoulders was characteristically Titian, so too was the inclination of a marble column which showed faintly in the picture. Titiano's inability to draw a true vertical line is well known and upon this column, more than upon other evidence, the experts accepted the picture as an early example of the fortunate painter's work.
Ronnie was indifferent as to the authenticity of the picture. The dawning carnality on Anthony's lean face, the misty shape of the temptress—Titian or his disciple had reduced to visibility the doubt, the gloating and the very thoughts of the Saint.
A black oak table stood in the center of the room and a deep Medici writing chair was placed opposite the black blotting-pad. It pleased Ronnie to imitate those ministers of state who employed this color to thwart curious-minded servants who, with the aid of a mirror, might discover the gist of outward correspondence.