“You did that with your scar and all,” Mark said.
“Funny how easy a kid gets an ambition. Only thirteen. He’ll get over it.”
“What did you want to be when you were thirteen, sonny?”
Gurdy strove to remember. He had probably wanted to be a theatrical manager. He said, “I wanted to be a barber when I was nine or ten, I remember that. And then I wanted to be an aviator—and now I want to write plays....”
“Hurry and write me a good one, brother.”
Then Mark was silent. They cantered along in the creamy sunlight. A great lady of artistic tastes reducing her weight bowed jerkily to Mark from her burdened gelding and called, “Can you bring Miss Walling to luncheon Sunday?” Gurdy saw Mark’s mouth twist. It needed courage to call so easily back, “She’s gone to Japan.” But a hundred yards afterward Mark reined in and stared at the sun, his face tormented.
“Sonny, I may have to open the Walling with ‘Todgers Intrudes’.”
“No!”
“Fact. I can’t take a chance with Cora gettin’ nasty. I can’t risk it. And I can’t get a house for love or money. I tried to buy the show out of the Princess last night. There ain’t a house empty.... I may have to use the Walling—open it with this—this—” He slashed his crop though the air, was ashamed of himself and sat chewing a lip. Gurdy could keep his emotions so well covered just as he now hid and nobly lied about his heartbreak over Margot. Mark’s sense of hurt swelled and broke out, “Oh, women are hell! If they want a thing they’ll do anything to get it! They—they scare me, Gurd! When they want a thing!... And look how she treated you!”
“Oh, Mark, honestly, I wasn’t in love with her!”