“Thanks for your telegram, Maisie. I came as fast as I could. It’s too late. Cleaned—cleaned—smashed by that madman—crooked as a can of worms—lucky thing I didn’t ask you to marry me that day—lucky for you you weren’t interested in my proposition. I couldn’t afford that luxury now, my dear. It’s terrible to have made two million dollars doing work one loathes, then lose the two million filthy dollars and have to start in doing the loathsome job all over again.
“Well, I’m young—I suppose I can stand it. Good night, Maisie, good night. Sorry for you and Mrs. Casson—mighty sorry.”
He fended away the imploring, uplifted arms that sought to enfold him, for Maisie, like all women who trifle with a man’s heart when he is prosperous and happy, desired to claim that heart now that it was bruised and broken.
“Don’t—please—I can’t stand it—don’t want to be coddled,” he muttered, and strode past her to the door. It opened and closed after him swiftly, and Maisie, standing on the steps, watched through her tears his tall, ungainly form stumbling down the street. She yearned with a great yearning to run after him, to take that white face to her heart, to whisper to him a torrent of love words, to cherish and comfort him. Yet she knew that Dan, like all men, when cruelly hurt, preferred to be alone, resenting sympathy and desiring silence.
“Poor dear,” she murmured, “when you have recovered a little from the shock of this failure I shall go to you and nothing shall keep you from me.”
CHAPTER XXIV
Dan walked home. He had to have physical action. It was close to midnight when he let himself into his house, but there was a dim light burning in the living room and Dan turned in here, cast his hat and coat on top of the piano and rang savagely for Sooey Wan, who, having just returned from his nightly pilgrimage to Chinatown, answered on the jump. At sight of Dan’s pale, tortured face the old Chinaman turned and fled to the kitchen. He returned presently bearing a siphon bottle, some ice, a bottle of Scotch whisky and—two glasses. Silently he mixed two highballs, handed one to Dan, took the other himself, sat down and said in a voice of compelling gentleness:
“Missa Dan, you tellum ol’ Sooey Wan. Wha’s mallah, boy?”
Dan cooled his parched throat with the highball. Indeed, he had rung for the Chinaman for the very purpose of ordering one. Strange, he thought, how Sooey Wan could understand him without a blueprint and directions for using!
“Sooey Wan, I’m all through. I have gone broke.”