CHAPTER X
Quarren had been at Witch-Hollow three days when Dankmere called him on the long-distance telephone.
"Do you want me to come back?" asked the young fellow. "I don"t mind if you do; I"m quite ready to return----"
"Not at all, my dear chap," said his lordship. "I fancied you might care to hear how matters are going in the Dankmere Galleries."
"Of course I do, but I rather hoped nothing in particular would happen for a week or so----"
"Plenty has. You know those experts of yours, Valasco, Drayton-Quinn, and that Hollander Van Boschoven. Well, they don"t get on. Each has come to me privately, and in turn, and told me that the others were no good----"
"Your role is to remain amiable and non-committal," said Quarren. "Let them talk----"
"Valasco and Drayton-Quinn won"t speak, and Van Boschoven has notified me that he declines to come to the house as long as either of the others are there."
"Very well; arrange to have them there on different days."
"I don"t think Valasco will come back at all."
"Why not?"
"Because--the fact is--I believe I practically--so to speak--hit him."
"What!"
"Fact, old chap."
"Why?"
"Well, he asked me if I knew more about anything than I did about pictures. I didn"t catch his drift for about an hour--but then it came to me, and I got up out of my chair and walked over and punched his head. I don"t think he"ll come back, do you?"
"No, I don"t. What else have you been doing?" said Quarren angrily.
"Nothing. One picture--the Raeburn portrait--has a bad hole in it."
"How did it happen?"
"Rather extraordinary thing, that! I was giving a most respectable card party--some ladies and gentlemen of sorts--from the Winter Garden I believe--and one of the ladies inadvertently shyed a gla.s.s at another lady----"
"For Heaven"s sake, Dankmere----"
"Quite right old chap--my fault entirely--I won"t do it again. But, do you know, the gallery already has become a most popular resort. People are coming and going all day--a lot of dealers among them I suspect--and there have been a number of theatrical people who want to hire pictures for certain productions to be staged next winter----"
"We don"t do that sort of thing!"
"That"s what I thought; but there was one very fetching girl who opens in "Ancestors" next October----"
"No, no, no!"
"Right-o! I"ll tell her at luncheon.... I say, Quarren: Karl Westguard wants the gallery to-night. May I let him have it?"
"Certainly. What for?"
"Oh, some idea of his--I"ve forgotten what he said."
"I believe I"d better come down," said Quarren bluntly.
"Don"t dream of it, old fellow. Everything is doing nicely. My respects to the fair. By-the-bye--anything in my line up there?"
Quarren laughed:
"I"m afraid not, Dankmere."
"_Very_ well," said the Earl, airily. "I"m not worrying now, you know.
_Good_-bye, old sport!"
And he rang off.
Quarren meeting Molly in the hall said:
"I think I"d better leave this afternoon. Dankmere is messing matters."
"Are you going to run away?" she said in a low voice, glancing sideways at Strelsa who had just pa.s.sed them wearing her riding habit.
"Run away," he repeated, also lowering his voice. "From whom?"
"From Langly Sprowl."
He shrugged and looked out of the window.
"It _is_ running away," insisted his pretty hostess. "You have a chance I think."
"Not the slightest."
"You are wrong. Strelsa wept in her sleep all night. How does that strike you?"
"Not over me," he said grimly; but added: "How do you know she did?"
"Her maid told mine," admitted Molly shamelessly. "Now if you are going to criticise my channels of information I"ll remind you that Richelieu himself----"
"Oh, Molly! Molly! What a funny girl you are!" he said, laughing.
"You"re a sweet, loyal little thing, too--but there"s no use--" His face became expressionless, almost haggard--"there"s no use," he repeated under his breath.
Slowly, side by side, they walked out to the veranda, her hand resting lightly just within the crook of his arm, he, absent-mindedly filling his pipe.