She leaned back upon the cushions of the cab, and looked straight before her.
"No one laughs when I try to do things. I know what I am saying. I could dance as well as the Russian woman, and they would give me a lot of money. Why should I not do it? I have no one who cares for me! Mr. Faber is going to America—the Silvesters do not like me because I am tired of praying. There, I shall come to the theatre, and they will keep me."
Harry was not a sentimentalist, very far from it; but the restrained dolour of this confession made a curious appeal to him, while, at the same time, the childishness of it exasperated him. Was she not in reality one of the most fortunate women in London that day? Her failure to realise what John Faber's friendship meant was incomprehensible, and yet it could not be disputed that she did fail to realise it.
"Look here, Maryska!" he said emphatically, "you don't want me to be angry with you, do you, now?"
"No," she said very quickly, "not you, Harry." And she laid her hand in his. He did not repulse her, but went on with the argument.
"If you don't want me to be angry, talk sense! Faber has adopted you, and he is one of the richest men in the world. Very well, you'll never want for anything on this planet. You're going into life on a good pitch, and the bowling is bilge. I expect they'll speak of you as a famous heiress presently, and half the men in London be after you! What's the good of romancing, then, or pretending you don't understand? I'm sure you understand just as well as I do—and if it were me, I'd knock up a century, certain! Don't you think you're rather foolish, little Gipsy?"
She shook her head, and put her arms about him in a gesture she could not control.
"No," she said, "I am very lonely, Harry!"—and she spoke no other word until the cab drove up to the house in Well Walk.
III
These excursions were no secrets between a boy and a girl, and Maryska would recite every detail of them upon her return to Hampstead. She was spared the necessity upon this occasion by the appearance in the road of another taxi, bringing Silvester and Gabrielle from Stepney. The four met upon the pavement, and immediately fell to a narrative of events. So much had been done, Gabrielle said; it had been a day of triumphs, and they had been achieved by Rupert Trevelle in the face of great odds.