"But tomorrow night Cindy has a date with us," f.a.n.n.y objected.
"I"m out of luck. Never mind: I know Linda won"t keep me in suspense forever."
"No: you may call on me the next night, Bel."
"That will be Friday. At the Hollywood, of course? Many thanks. And now I mustn"t keep you, it"s a long ride back and you must be quite tired out with your long day"s work, the emotional strain and everything."
Bellamy was punctiliously gallant about helping Lucinda and f.a.n.n.y into their car, then returned to his own, wagging a cavalier farewell to Summerlad as the latter sped away with Jacques in the orange-and-black juggernaut.
When they had been some time under way f.a.n.n.y broke in upon Lucinda"s meditations with an ecstatic murmur: "Priceless!"
Lucinda came to with a frown. "I"m glad you think so," she said shortly.
"Don"t be upstage. You know it"s priceless. Why didn"t you tell me your Bel was such a lamb?"
"He"s not my Bel any more, and I don"t consider him a lamb."
"Then I presume you"ve no objection to my vamping him?"
"None whatever, if it amuses you, dear. But why waste your powder on such small game? Any pretty piece can vamp Bel. I"m not sure she need even be pretty."
"Only for your sake, darling. I don"t fancy the brute, thanks."
"For my sake?"
"Don"t you see through his little game? He"s out here to persuade you he"s a changed man, a reformed character, and beg you to take him back on probation."
"Then he"s far stupider than I imagined."
"Whereas if he falls for my girlish wiles, I"ll have shown him up in all his deceitfulness."
"Don"t put yourself out on my account." Lucinda curled a lip. "I wouldn"t take Bel back no matter how absolute his reformation."
f.a.n.n.y wanted to ask more questions but, heeding the counsel of discretion, contented herself with a little private sigh. Going on her tone, Lucinda quite meant what she had just said. Good news for Harry, whose plans would be seriously embarra.s.sed if there were any real reason to fear the defection of Lucinda through reconciliation with her husband. For of course, if she took Druce on again, it would mean an end to the still young history of Linda Lee: Druce never would consent to let his wife continue in the picture business.
"All the same, if you don"t mind, I think I"ll practise on Bellamy."
"Oh, I don"t mind. But Harry might."
"Oh, Harry!" f.a.n.n.y had a laugh of light scorn. "For all Harry cares----!"
But Lucinda was inattentive; she had lapsed swiftly into an abstraction which had little or nothing to do with the unseasonable reappearance of Bellamy or the prospect of a wearing time with him before he could be finally discouraged. Whatever proposals Bel might wish to make, the answer to them all stood immutably decreed by Lucinda"s heart.
It was not with matters of such certainty that she was concerned, but with the problematical issue of the Summerlad affair, an issue whose imminence was to be measured now by hours. Nothing that had happened since had served to erase the impression of that first kiss, nothing conceivable could seem half so momentous. The presence of the camera had meant nothing, they had kissed in earnest; mute, her lips had confessed too much. It remained only to be determined whether or not Summerlad had understood their message. If he had, Lucinda well knew, she was a lost woman.
She was possessed with a species of rapturous alarm....
XXVIII
In sequel Lucinda knew two days made up of emotions singularly stratified. This notwithstanding the fact (of which she needed to remind herself with provoking frequency) that she had put Bel out of her life for good and all, he was less than nothing to her now and, in the simple nature of things, seeing she was pledged to another, never could be more--more, at least, than the trial his pertinacity was rendering him at present.
Most of the time, of course, all of it spent with Lynn or in dreaming of him, she was merely but comprehensibly a young woman in love and glad of it; pleased with herself, pleased with her lover, delighting in the sweet secrecy with which it were seemly for the while to screen their love.
Nevertheless, dark hours alternated in apprehension of what she was resolved must be her final talk with Bel. But how successful dared she hope to be in the business of making Bel agree even to that? Lucinda found it by no means easy to compose an att.i.tude which she could depend upon to dishearten Bel decisively, without going to the length of telling him point-blank that she was in love with another man and meant to marry him as soon as her professional commitments would leave her free to go through the mill of Reno. And to know Bellamy as she did was to have a good warrant for mistrusting lest, far from reeling down to defeat under the impact of that revelation, he might be moved merely to make fun of it. It would be just like Bel to refuse to believe that Lucinda Druce nee Harrington meant to marry a movie actor.
"Go ahead, Linda, by all means divorce me if your heart"s set on it"--one could almost hear him say it--"but don"t tell me you"re doing it just to marry a man who paints his nose for a living."
Somehow one got scant comfort of the retort obvious, that if Lynn did paint his nose he at least did it with nothing more harmful than paint.
At all costs, then, she must avoid the risk of telling Bel what she intended, and keep the tone of the impending scene in tune with the dignity which she had thus far been successful in maintaining, be firm but cool, and give him clearly to understand it was hopeless his attempting to make whole again that sacred vessel which his impious hands had shattered.
Maintained upon such a plane that scene must have been both beautiful and conclusive. And no doubt it would have been so but for one circ.u.mstance: Bel not only failed to call on Lucinda at the time appointed but failed even to send word of apology or explanation. An affront whose realization trans.m.u.ted n.o.bility of spirit into resentment most humanly rancorous.
Lucinda had sacrificed the evening to sense of duty; a true sacrifice, for Lynn was leaving early next morning to spend a fortnight with his company in an Oregon logging camp. So this would have been their last evening together for fourteen livelong days, if Lucinda hadn"t promised it to Bellamy, and if Summerlad hadn"t mournfully agreed (measurably to Lucinda"s disappointment in him) that she could not afford to dishonour her promise. Surely their secret happiness was enough to compensate for that much self-denial, especially when it meant the last of Bellamy....
Losing patience after hours of waiting, Lucinda called the Alexandria on the telephone, and was informed that Mr. Druce had "checked out" early in the morning, saying nothing of an intention to return.
Mystified even more than angry, Lucinda went to bed, but lay wakeful a long time trying to fathom the enigma of such conduct in one whose need of her had brought him all the way across America to beg that very audience which had been granted only to be coolly ignored. The readiest explanation, likewise at first blush the likeliest, was none the less at odds with the premeditation to be read in Bel"s leaving his hotel before noon, which wasn"t the action of a man whom drink had made forgetful, but rather that of one who repented his haste in suing for something which sober second-thought had satisfied him he didn"t really want.
How funny, if so! How very human!
Lucinda contributed her first smile since nightfall to the darkness of her bedchamber.
But having smiled, she frowned involuntarily....
No note came from Bellamy the next morning, and nothing transpired in the course of the next several weeks to afford any clue to the riddle; with the upshot that Lucinda thought about her husband a great deal more than she wanted to or had at any time since leaving Chicago. Curiosity being piqued no less than vanity, though she kept a.s.suring herself it was a matter of indifference to her what Bel did or didn"t nowadays, invariably the consideration followed that, all the same, it was strange, it wasn"t like Bel to treat any woman so rudely.
She would, in those days, have been glad and grateful for some interest so absorbing as to relegate this vexing question to the realm of the immaterial, where rightly it belonged. But, with Summerlad away, nothing much happened with enervating regularity, the most interesting hours Lucinda knew were those spent in her rooms waiting for Lynn to call up on the long distance telephone. This he did every evening, and though she was thus daily provided with exhilarating moments, those that followed always seemed desperately the duller. The truth was, lacking the sense of danger, of flirting with fire, that was intrinsic in their love-making, lacking the sense of doing something that she oughtn"t, calmly flouting the rigid code of her caste and having nothing to pay, Lucinda was beginning to find her environment a trifle tiresome. Say what one would, there was a certain cloying sameness about it all.
Somebody once said in her hearing that there wasn"t any weather in Southern California but only climate. And it was true that at times the wonder and beauty of everlasting sunlight seemed a poor offset to its monotony; so that Lucinda would sometimes find herself grown a little weary of the sky"s dense, inexpressive, day-long blue; and even its nightly extravagance of stars now and again impressed her as being too persistently spectacular, an ostentation on the part of Nature as tasteless as many jewels plastered on a woman"s pretty bosom. One rather wanted to recommend the chiffon of clouds....
Then, too, one grew acquainted with certain, definite limitations restricting the amount of amus.e.m.e.nt to be had of taking active or pa.s.sive part in the simple, rowdy pleasures of the motion-picture peerage. When one had several times attended the festivities these staged in the public resorts most in favour or in their private homes, one was apt to feel moderately surfeited with jazz of all sorts, mental and moral as well as musical, and a society made up in the main of men who thought it too much trouble to dress and women who as a matter of habit airily consummated the contradiction of being at one and the same time under and over-dressed. And once the novelty of learning to speak a strange tongue had worn off, no great amount of intellectual nourishment was to be extracted of studio shop-talk, which commonly was concerned in the ratio of one to ten with the business of making motion-pictures and with the private, broadly speaking, lives of the people who were making them, lives seldom held worth the discussing when their conduct was decorous.
Though personal liberty of action and freedom of speech be part of the inalienable heritage of the American people, it was the sum of Lucinda"s observation that in the studios both were practised to the point of abandon. She considered herself the most liberal-minded of women, the life she had led till now had left her few illusions, she had even been known to enunciate an aphorism in the sense that hypocrisy is a lubricant essential to the mechanism of society: here, however, she remarked, such lubrication was so generally dispensed with that oftentimes the bearings screeched to Heaven.
But Heaven made no sign, and the Hollywood of active and retired tradespeople, to which the studios had brought prosperity beyond its maddest dreams, stuffed its ears and made believe there was nothing to hear.
As for the studios, busy, complacent, and well-content to be spared the troublesome necessity of pretending to be better than they were, they forgot (if, indeed, they ever stopped to think) that they did not const.i.tute the whole of the community, and chuckled openly over a saying that ran their rounds that season, the mot of one of their own wits:
"Are you married? Or do you live in Hollywood?"
XXIX