CHAPTER III
A WIFE IS DIFFERENT
"Has he gone?" said Toby eagerly. She came into the room with a swiftglance around. "What did he say? What did he do? Was he angry?"
"I really don't know," Saltash said, supremely unconcerned. "He went.That's the main thing."
Toby looked at him critically. "You were so quiet, both of you. Was therea row?"
"Were you listening?" said Saltash.
She coloured, and smiled disarmingly. "Part of the time--no, all thetime. But I didn't hear anything--at least not much. Nothing thatmattered. Are you angry?"
He frowned upon her, but his eyes reassured. "I told you to smoke acigarette."
"I'm sorry," said Toby meekly. "Shall I smoke one now?"
He pinched her ear. "No. We'll go out. You've got to shop. First though,I've got something for you. I'm not sure you deserve it, but that's adetail. Few of us ever do get our deserts in this naughty world."
"What is it?" said Toby.
Her bright eyes questioned him. She looked more than ever like an eagerboy. He pulled a leather case out of his pocket and held it out to her.
"Oh, what is it?" she said, and coloured more deeply. "Youhaven't--haven't--been buying me things?"
"Open it!" said Saltash, with regal peremptoriness.
But still she hesitated, till he suddenly laid his hands on hers andcompelled her. She saw a single string of pearls on a bed of blue velvet.Her eyes came up to his in quick distress.
"Oh, I ought not to take them!" she said.
"And why not?" said Saltash.
She bit her lip, almost as if she would burst into tears. "Monseigneur--"
"Call me Charles!" he commanded.
His hands still held hers. She dropped her eyes to them, and suddenly,very suddenly, she bent her head and kissed them.
He started slightly, and in a moment he set her free, leaving the case inher hold. "_Eh bien!_" he said lightly. "That is understood. You like mypearls, _cherie_?"
"I love--anything--that comes from you," she made low reply. "Butthese--but these--I ought not to take these."
"But why not?" he questioned. "May I not make you a present? Are younot--my wife?"
"Yes." More faintly came Toby's answer. "But--but--but--a wife isdifferent. A wife--does not need--presents."
"_Mais vraiment!_" protested Saltash. "So a wife is different!How--different, _mignonne_?"
He tried to look into the downcast eyes, but she would not raise them.She was trembling a little. "Such things as these," she said, under herbreath, "are what a man would give to--to--to the woman he loves."
"And so you think they are unsuitable for--my wife?" questioned Saltash,with a whimsical look on his dark face.
She did not answer him, only mutely held out the case, still withoutlooking at him.
He stood for a second or two, watching her, an odd flame coming and goingin his eyes; then abruptly he moved, picked up the pearls from theircase, straightened them dexterously, and clasped them about her neck.
She lifted her face then, quivering and irresolute, to his. "And I cangive you--nothing," she said.
He took her lightly by the shoulders, as one who caresses a child. "_Macherie_, you have given me already much more than you realize. But wewill not go into that now. We will go to the shops. Afterwards, we willgo out to Fontainebleau and picnic in the forest. You will like that?"
"Oh, so much!" she said, with enthusiasm.
Yet there was a puzzled look of pain in her eyes as she turned away, andthough she wore his pearls, she made no further reference to them.
They went forth into the streets of Paris and Toby shopped. At first shewas shy, halting here and hesitating there, till Saltash, looking on,careless and debonair, made it abundantly evident that whatever shedesired she was to have, and then like a child on a holiday she flungaside all indecision and became eager and animated. So absorbed was shethat she took no note of the passage of time and was horrified when atlength he called her attention to the fact that it was close upon theluncheon-hour.
"And you must be so tired of it all!" she said, with compunction.
"Not in the least," he assured her airily between puffs of his cigarette."It has been--a new experience for me."
Her eyes challenged him for a moment, and he laughed.
"_Mais oui, madame!_ I protest--a new experience. I feel I am doing myduty."
"And it doesn't bore you?" questioned Toby, with a tilt of the chin.
His look kindled a little. "If we were on board the old _Night Moth_,you'd have had a cuff for that," he remarked.
"I wish we were!" she said daringly.
He flicked his fingers. "You're very young, Nonette."
She shook her head with vehemence. "I'm not! I'm not! I'm onlypretending. Can't you see?"
He laughed jestingly. "You have never deceived me yet, _ma chere_,--notonce, from the moment I found you shivering in my cabin up to thepresent. You couldn't if you tried."
Toby's blue eyes suddenly shone with a hot light. "So sure of that?" shesaid quickly. "You read me--so easily?"
"Like a book," said Saltash, with an arrogance but half-assumed.
"I cheated you--once," she said, breathing sharply.
"And I caught you," said Saltash.
"Only--only because--I meant you to," said Toby, under her breath.
He raised his brows in momentary surprise, and in a flash she laughed andclapped her hands. "I had you there, King Charles! You see, you are but aman after all."
He gave her a swift and piercing glance. "And what are you?" he said.
Her eyes fell swiftly before his look; she made no reply.
They returned to the hotel and lunched together. The incident of themorning seemed to be forgotten. Jake's name was not once mentionedbetween them. Toby was full of gaiety. The prospect of the run toFontainebleau evidently filled her with delight.
She joined Saltash in the vestibule after the meal, clad in a light bluewrap they had purchased that morning.
He went to meet her, a quick gleam in his eyes; and a man to whom he hadbeen talking--a slim, foreign-looking man with black moustache andimperial--turned sharply and gave her a hard stare.
Toby's chin went up. She looked exclusively at Saltash. Her bearing atthat moment was that of a princess.
"The car is ready?" she questioned. "Shall we go?"
"By all means," said Saltash.
He nodded a careless farewell to the other man, and followed her, a smiletwitching at his lips, the gleam still in his eyes.
"That man is Spentoli the sculptor," he said, as he handed her into thecar. "A genius, Nonette! I should have presented him to you if you hadnot been so haughty."
"I hate geniuses," said Toby briefly.
He laughed at her. "_Mais vraiment!_ How many have you known?"
She considered for a moment, and finally decided that the question didnot require an answer.
Saltash took the wheel and spun the little car round with considerabledexterity. "Yes, a genius!" he said. "One of the most wonderful of theage. His work is amazing--scarcely human. He paints too. All Paris ravesover his work--with reason. His picture, 'The Victim'--" he looked at hersuddenly--"What is the matter, _cherie_? Is the sun too strong for you?"
Toby's hand was shielding her eyes. Her lips were trembling. "Don'twait!" she murmured. "Don't wait! Let's get away! I am all right--just alittle giddy, that's all."
He took her at her word, and sent the car swiftly forward. They passedout into the crowded thoroughfare, and in a moment or two Toby leanedback, gazing before her with a white, set face.
Saltash asked no question. He did not even look at her, concentrating allhis attention upon the task of extricating himself as swiftly as possiblefrom the crush of vehicles around them.
It was a day of perfect autumn, and Paris lay basking in sunshine; butSaltash was a rapid traveller at all times, and it was not long beforeParis was left behind. But even when free from the traffic, he did n
otspeak or turn towards his companion, merely gave himself to the taskof covering the ground as quickly as possible.
In the end it was Toby who spoke, abruptly, boyishly. "By jingo! You candrive!"
Saltash's face showed its own elastic grin. "You like this?"
"Rather!" said Toby with enthusiasm.
She threw off her silence and plunged forthwith into careless chatter--amood to which he responded with the utmost readiness. When at length theyran into the shade of the forest, they were both in the highest spirits.
They had their tea in a mossy glade out of sight of the road. The sun wasbeginning to slant. Its rays fell in splashes of golden green all aboutthem.
"Just the place for a duel!" said Saltash appreciatively.
"Have you ever fought a duel?" Toby looked at him over the picnic-basketwith eyes of sparkling interest.
She had thrown aside her hat, and her fair hair gleamed as if it gaveforth light. Saltash leaned his shoulders against a tree and watched her.
"I have never fought to kill," he said. "Honour is too easilysatisfied in this country--though after all--" his smile was suddenlyprovocative--"there are very few things worth fighting for, Nonette."
Her eyes flashed their ready challenge. "Life being too short already?"she suggested.
"Even so," said Charles Rex coolly.
Toby abruptly bent her head and muttered something into thepicnic-basket.
"What?" said Saltash.
She pulled out a parcel of cakes and tossed them on to the ground."Nothing!" she said.
He leaned forward unexpectedly as she foraged for more, and gripped thesmall brown hand.
"Tell me what you said!" he commanded.
She flung him a look half-frightened, half-daring. "I said there was onlyone cup."
She would have released her hand with the words, but his fingerstightened like a spring. "_Pardonnez-moi!_ That was not what you said!"
She became passive in his hold, but she said nothing.
"Tell me what you said!" Saltash said again.
A little tremor went through Toby. "Can we do--with only one cup?" sheasked, not looking at him, her eyelids flickering nervously.
"Going to answer me?" said Saltash.
She shook her head and was silent.
He waited for perhaps ten seconds, and in that time a variety ofdifferent expressions showed and vanished on his ugly face. Then, just asToby was beginning to tremble in real trepidation, he suddenly set herfree.
"We have drunk out of the same glass before now," he said. "We can do itagain."
She looked at him then, relief and doubt struggling together in her eyes."Are you angry?" she said.
His answering look baffled her. "No," he said.
She laid a conciliatory hand upon his arm. "You are! I'm sure you are!"
"I am not," said Saltash.
"Then why aren't you?" demanded Toby, with sudden spirit.
The monkeyish grin leapt into his face. "Because I know what you said,"he told her coolly. "It is not easy--you will never find it easy--todeceive me."
She snatched her hand away. Her face was on fire. "I said you did notmake the most of life," she flung at him. "And it's true! You don't! Youdon't!"
"How do you know that?" said Saltash.
She did not answer him. Her head was bent over the basket. She threw outone thing after another with nervous rapidity, and once, as he watchedher, there came a faint sound that was like a hastily suppressed sob.
Saltash got to his feet with disconcerting suddenness and walked away.
When he returned some minutes later with a half-smoked cigarette betweenhis lips, she was sitting demurely awaiting him, the picnic ready spread.
He scarcely looked at her but he flicked her cheek as he sat down, and ina moment she turned and smiled at him.
"I have found another cup," she said.
"So I see," said Saltash, and before she could realize his mood he pickedit up and flung it at the trunk of a tree some yards away. It shivered infragments on the moss, and Toby gasped and stared at him wide-eyed.
He laughed in his careless fashion at her amazement. "Now we shall drinkout of one cup!" he said.
"Was that--was that--why you did it?" she stammered breathlessly.
He blew a cloud of smoke into the air with a gesture of royalindifference. "Even so,--_madame_!" he said. "One does these things--witha wife. You see, a wife--is different."
"I--I see," said Toby.
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