‘Sit there, please,’ he said. ‘My God, when it comes to the point how I despise myself, Brownlow! It’s—it’s about her, about Fédore.’
‘Yes,’ I replied, as calmly as I could, for his tone moved me deeply. And the subject, too! I trembled, penetrated alike by fear and hope of what I should hear next.
‘For the last month or six weeks something’s been wrong—some mystery on hand I cannot fathom. Somebody who has, or imagines they have, a hold over her is pressing her for money, as far as I can make out. I believe—oh! it is an abominable suspicion, but I cannot rid my mind of it—this person visits the house when she is sure I shall be away. I have no idea who, Brownlow; but someone belonging to her old life, before I married her. Each time lately that I have been with her she has insisted upon my telling her exactly when I intend to come again. Nothing will pacify her but that I must fix a date and hour. Her persistence has vexed me once or twice. We nearly quarrelled over it. She says’—he choked a little—‘it is only that she may be able to put on a pretty gown, prepare a nice little dinner, and have everything smart and charming for me. But I don’t believe that is her sole reason—perhaps I am just a jealous brute—but I can’t. I wish to heaven I could!’
He waited, fighting down his emotion.
‘Yesterday matters came to a head. I went with’—he mentioned the names of several young men, well known, not to say notorious, in fashionable and sporting circles—‘to a race meeting at ——. I meant to stop the week. But racing bores me after a little while, and the play was too high at night. Positively I couldn’t afford it. So I cut my stay short, went back to town, and to Chelsea. I can’t deny I had been living rather hard, and I was cross with myself—I really have kept awfully straight for the last six months, Brownlow—and a bit seedy and out of sorts.’
Again he waited.
‘I let myself in at the garden door, and then at the house-door—as a matter of course. I had no intention of jumping any surprise on her. I was not thinking about my suspicions or any little tiff we had had. I only wanted to get to her, Brownlow, because I knew she’d put me into good conceit with myself—tease and pet and amuse me, you know—she can be devilish amusing when she likes’——
His voice broke.
‘Yes,’ I said quietly, ‘yes’——
My heart bled for him; but I must be cautious and husband my resources. The time to speak would surely come, but it was not yet.