"Sorry for herself?"
"Not she! Last time I saw her she told me she wouldn"t go back into an office, or take on typewriting again, for anything in the world. She was looking prettier than ever, too. There"s a swell chap almost crazy about her. Shouldn"t wonder if she hasn"t got an automobile."
"Well, she answers our question one way, then," he remarked thoughtfully.
"Tell me, Miss Grimes, is everything to eat in America as good as this fish?"
"Some cooking here," she observed, looking rather regretfully at her empty plate. "I told you things were all right. There"s grilled chicken--Maryland chicken--coming, and green corn."
"Have I got to eat the corn like that man opposite?" he asked anxiously.
"You can eat it how you like," she answered.
"Watch me, if you want to. I don"t care. I ain"t tasted green corn since I can remember, and I"m going to enjoy it."
"You don"t like your claret, I"m afraid," he remarked.
She sipped it and set down the gla.s.s a little disparagingly.
"If you want to know what I would like," she said, "it"s just a Martini c.o.c.ktail. We don"t drink wines over here as much as you folk, I guess."
He ordered the c.o.c.ktails at once. Every now and then he watched her. She ate delicately but with a healthy and unashamed appet.i.te. A little colour came into her cheeks as the room grew warmer, her lower lip became less uncompromising. Suddenly she laid down her knife and fork. Her eyes were agleam with interest. She pulled at his sleeve.
"Say, that"s Stella!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Look, she"s coming this way! Don"t she look stunning!"
A girl, undeniably pretty, with dark, red-gold hair, wearing a long ermine coat and followed by a fashionably dressed young man, was making her way up the room. She suddenly recognised Philip"s companion and came towards her with outstretched hand.
"If it isn"t Martha!" she cried. "Isn"t this great! Felix, this is Miss Grimes--Martha Grimes, you know," she added, calling to the young man who was accompanying her. "You must remember--why, what"s the matter with you, Felix?"
She broke off in her speech. Her companion was staring at Philip, who was returning his scrutiny with an air of mild interrogation.
"Say," the young man enquired, "didn"t I meet you on the _Elletania_?
Aren"t you Mr. Douglas Romilly?"
Philip shook his head.
"My name is Ware," he p.r.o.nounced, "Merton Ware. I have certainly never been on the _Elletania_ and I don"t remember having met you before."
The young man whose name was Felix appeared almost stupefied.
"Gee whiz!" he muttered. "Excuse me, sir, but I never saw such a likeness before--never!"
"Well, shake hands with Miss Grimes quickly and come along," Stella enjoined. "Remember I only have half an hour for dinner now. You coming to see the show, Martha?"
"Not to-night," that young woman declared firmly.
The two pa.s.sed on after a few more moments of amiable but, on the part of the young man, somewhat dazed conversation. Philip had resumed the consumption of his chicken. He raised an over-filled gla.s.s to his lips steadily and drank it without spilling a drop.
"Mistook me for some one," he remarked coolly.
She nodded.
"Man who disappeared from the Waldorf Astoria. They made quite a fuss about him in the newspapers. I shouldn"t have said you were the least like him--to judge by his pictures, anyway."
Philip shrugged his shoulders. He seemed very little interested.
"I don"t often read the newspapers.... So that is Stella."
"That is Stella," she a.s.sented, a little defiantly. "And if I were she--I mean if I were as good-looking as she is--I"d be in her place."
"I wonder whether you would?" he observed thoughtfully.
"Oh! don"t bother me with your problems," she replied. "Does it run to coffee?"
"Of course it does," he agreed, "and a liqueur, if you like."
"If you mean a cordial, I"ll have some of that green stuff," she decided.
"Don"t know when I shall get another dinner like this again."
"Well, that rests with you," he a.s.sured her. "I am very lonely just now.
Later on it will be different. We"ll come again next week, if you like."
"Better see how you feel about it when the time comes," she answered practically. "Besides, I"m not sure they"d let me in here again. Did you see Stella"s coat? Fancy feeling fur like that up against your chin!
Fancy--"
She broke off and sipped her coffee broodingly.
"Those things are immaterial in themselves," he reminded her. "It"s just a question how much happiness they have brought her, whether the thing pays or not."
"Of course it pays!" she declared, almost pa.s.sionately. "You"ve never seen my rooms or my drunken father. I can tell you what they"re like, though. They"re ugly, they"re tawdry, they"re untidy, when I"ve any work to do, they"re scarcely clean. Our meals are thrown at us--we"re always behind with the rent. There isn"t anything to look at or listen to that isn"t ugly. You haven"t known what it is to feel the grim pang of a constant hideousness crawling into your senses, stupefying you almost with a sort of misery--oh, I can"t describe it!"
"I have felt all those things," he said quietly.
"What did you do?" she demanded. "No, perhaps you had luck. Perhaps it"s not fair to ask you that. It wouldn"t apply. What should you do if you were me, if you had the chance to get out of it all the way that she has?"
"I am not a woman," he reminded her simply. "If I answer you as an outsider, a pa.s.ser-by--mind, though, one who thinks about men and women--I should say try one of her lesser sins, one of the sins that leaves you clean. Steal, for instance."
"And go to prison!" she protested angrily. "How much better off would you be there, I wonder, and what about when you came out? Pooh! Pay your bill and let"s get out of this."
He obeyed, and they made their way into the crowded street. He paused for a moment on the pavement. The pleasure swirl was creeping a little into his veins.
"Would you like to go to a theatre?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"You do as you like. I"m going home. You needn"t bother about coming with me, either."
"Don"t be foolish," he protested. "I only mentioned a theatre for your sake. Come along."