She began to laugh as though the triumph were all hers and she continued laughing until he had gone out and closed the door.
XLVI
When he saw around the green and tranquil park the familiar outlines of his club, he had a feeling as though he were seeing the first welcome lights of civilization after long wandering in a wilderness. His entrance made quite a stir. Old Joseph at the door came up beaming to take his hat and coat. A group of men lounging on the stairs turned with exclamations of surprise. In a twinkling the rumor of his return spread from floor to floor. Men came crowding about him, old friends who greeted him uproariously, concealing under the boisterousness of their greeting the deep emotion which each felt. He had been a leader here and the sudden thronging of those whose names he could scarcely recall showed him the extent to which he had been missed. Every one had a word of congratulation, every one was talking of his exhibition. He found himself quite a hero, the center of loyal adherents. Nothing seemed to have changed. There were the same groups about the billiard tables, the same evening gatherings at the bar; he felt even a tolerant affection for the bores and the dead-beats who never change either. He was back among his own, gloriously, triumphantly returned. These were of the old guard, who loved him, who understood what he had accomplished, who would never judge him, would ask no questions, would be his until the end, no matter whether that end be victory or emptiness, in the loyal fraternity of men. The long months which had been so poignantly, vitally alive were now like the delirious passage of a fever.
It was almost seven o’clock before he realized the hour. He would have liked to stay for dinner in the old dining room, packed with relics and to have enjoyed gluttonously this richness of affection, to have felt again and again the strange tingling delight as each new figure recognized him with a start of surprise and came joyfully up to claim him.
On his way to the Arcade he began to plan many things. There was no reason now why he should continue the meagerness of their present life. He had always had in him luxurious desires, the need of beautiful surroundings and a disdain of petty economies. Now that he had emerged from the wilderness, that success was his, he would take an apartment with a great double studio which he could fit out with all the luxury of detail which his pagan temperament craved. Then, they could readily afford a Japanese servant—a good cook who would preside over the little dinners for which he had once been famous. The thought of a butler made him smile a little bit at himself and at his own vanity. He admitted to himself that he was, as De Gollyer had said, of the world and that the little niceties of life meant much to him. But he smiled at himself tolerantly, for he was aglow with triumph and happiness. If he wanted a thing he wanted it immediately and it rather annoyed him that it would be impossible for him to start to work on his quest until another day should have arrived.
When he came up eagerly to his studio he found Inga waiting. He hesitated and then deferred the question of their moving until another day. He had a sudden feeling that she would oppose the suggestion or if she did not oppose it, behind the baffling calm of her eyes there would be a deep revolt. Yet when a few days later he made up his mind after much hesitation to approach the subject, he found to his surprise that she made no objection. She asked only if he meant to abandon the studio in the Arcade. This had, in fact, been his idea but something in the directness and suddenness of this, her only comment, made him change his mind.
“No, no,” he said hastily, “we’ll keep this for the work, for the serious business—a place to run away from people. The other will be just the showcase.”
“I am glad you are not going to give this up,” she said quietly.