“Now look here,” Napier scowled, touching her knee with one finger, “I can’t quite do that, Venice. You see, I made a sort of promise to that doctor fellow that I would go and sit with Iris just for a while this afternoon——”
“Oh, I see,” said Venice. “Well, in that case....”
“Give her an idea—that’s what the doctor fellow said—that some of her friends care whether she lives or dies, for any one would be rather lonely up there. What? I went round for a minute this morning just to inquire, but I didn’t see her, as they said that——”
“I thought you were at the Embassy this morning,” Venice said, in a very natural voice: and she crushed out her cigarette on the marble top of the table, and she picked up her vanity-case.
“Yes, so I was,” Napier scowled; “but I just went round there for a minute——”
“Oo, what a long way to go for a minute!” sighed Venice. “When one can always telephone....” And she rose from her chair. Somehow an immense new dignity had suddenly come on Venice. Napier rose, facing her, smiling under his scowl, as though she had made a joke. I rose, saying that I must be going.
“As a matter of fact,” said Venice brightly, “as I knew you were so worried about her I rang up that place this morning, and they told me she was assez bien, if you see what I mean....”
“Venice, that was kind!” Napier smiled with his whole thin, fine face, and I thought how glad I was that he didn’t know what had caused Iris’s illness, for would he then have smiled gratefully at Venice for inquiring after her? And he said, as though happy in her understanding: “I mean, we can start off first thing in the morning, can’t we? What? It’s rotten luck, cutting in on your holiday like this, but—well, friendship has duties....”
“But of course I understand, Naps!” And Venice turned at me, smiling as though to show me what sort of a man that Napier was. As though she didn’t understand! As though she didn’t know the duties of friendship! She said to Napier, with a fine air of business settled: “Well, I’ll just go upstairs now and tell Mary to unpack some things again. And I do so hope, Naps,” she said with a fine large smile, “that your friend won’t die, for then how will I manage a man who has nothing left to live for?” And Venice turned to me, and her hand was in mine, and we were saying good-bye, when Napier said briskly:
“Come on, then. We’ll go now. Might as well, now the car’s there....”