When Martin came that evening, Deane said to him at once, “I saw Roberts at the concert and he brought me home in his car. I liked him better than ever before.”
“Well,” Martin was thoughtful, “I can’t say that I like it—oh, you needn’t explain his charm! I’m quite aware of it. But I’m afraid of his mind. I’m afraid of the way it works, and I wish to God he’d get out of the picture. It’s getting a little too uncanny—the way he checks on me.” Martin pulled his chair closer to Deane’s. “I found out that he tried to block my part-time job. Still, with all of it,” he continued, “my attitude toward him remains variable; for underneath his mask lies a real and secret protest. This protest is limitless—and if I’m right, rather beautiful.” Martin laughed shortly. “Odd as it may be, I’m certain that I’m responsible for many of his appearances. His sickness, if he is sick, is now abiding in a perfect culture.”
“And what is that?” asked Deane, looking at him with her large eyes.
“A medium of vicious love engendered by myself.”
Deane laughed without restraint.
“Darling,” she said, taking Martin’s face in her hands, “you want to be so awfully bad, don’t you?”
Martin smiled with her and she was satisfied, promptly forgetting the adviser.
“Drew looked very sad when he left, Martin,” she said. “Tell me—did he go just because of you?”
“Deane,” Martin said quite seriously, “we mustn’t keep on thinking that all these forces are created by me.” Martin was pale in the shadows. “That would be a timeless, horrible thought—a possible eternity. Can anything be more terrible than eternity? All this action is separate from myself. It must be. It’s not possible that my demand has been too much!” He was speaking hoarsely when Deane put her arms around him.
“Darling,” she whispered, “I understand. Won’t you love me a little?” By instinct she had given him that temporary haven where the mind of man retreats after being frightened by its own infinite possibilities. Deane’s gentle whisper and her fascinating implication of certain physical contacts quieted his nerves abruptly and he felt as though a sweet fire were crossing his spine. He closed his eyes, and allowing Deane to lead him into the gray-paneled bedroom, he lay back on the sheets, feeling her soft hands stroke his skin until he shivered.