XVII
Clancy had, on the other occasions on which she had met David Randall,been cool, aloof, mildly flirtatious, fun-making. Even when fear hadswayed her and he had guessed at some worry eating at her heart, she hadmanaged to preserve a verbal self-command.
But it was a Clancy whom he had never met before who faced him now. Itwas an incoherent Clancy, who said brokenly, while his big hand stillheld hers:
"What a surprise! I expected--I'm _glad_-- What a terrible storm--somuch snow--in a few hours-- Wasn't it fun--last night?"
Then the incoherence that, from a person who had heretofore been alwaysin complete possession of herself, was all the more charming, vanished.She looked down at her hand, then demurely up at him. With Vandervent'sdetectives ready to knock upon the front door--it is a peculiar thingthat one always thinks of detectives as knocking, never ringing--withten thousand dollars of venal money in her purse; with flight from thecity as her only escape--and that, her common sense told her, atemporary one--from her amazing difficulties; with her career, notmerely the moving-picture ambitions but the new one of achieving successwith Miss Henderson, vanishing as the snow upon the streets would vanishbefore the rain and sun; with more trouble than she could cope with,Clancy became demure. She was thoroughly feminine. And a woman regardsa man as something to be swayed by her. So Clancy forgot her owntroubles for the moment in the pleasing task of making Randall's faceredder than it was.
"You like it?" she asked. He didn't understand her. "My hand," sheexplained.
Randall dropped it at once. Her own incoherence communicated itself tohim.
"I didn't mean-- I didn't realize----"
"Oh, it's perfectly all right," said Clancy soothingly. "If I were you,I'd probably like to hold my hand, too."
She laughed. Randall discovered from the laugh that he had not offendedirreparably. Emboldened, he snatched at the hand again. But they were inthe hall, and Mrs. Gerand, disapproving of eye as she looked at thisyoung couple violating the austerity of her house by open and boldflirtation, was only twenty feet away.
"Let's go in the parlor," said Clancy.
There was a sort of sofa near the old-fashioned marble mantel in theparlor, and in the exact center of this Clancy sat. Randall was forcedto deposit himself upon a chair, a rickety affair which he drew as nearto Clancy as he dared. He coughed nervously. Then he smiled--a broadsmile, the smile, he thought, of large friendliness, of kindlyimpersonality. Clancy was not deceived by it.
"How'd you find me here?" she demanded. "Didn't I refuse to tell you myaddress?"
"Mrs. Carey told me this morning."
"Oh, she did! Why did she do that?"
"It wasn't a crime, was it?" asked Randall aggrievedly. "I guess thatshe thought she owed it to me--after last night."
"What do you mean?"
Randall's eyes lowered. He fidgeted uneasily in his chair. Then helifted his eyes until they met hers.
"Well, she wouldn't give me a chance last night."
"'A chance?' What do you mean?" Clancy sat bolt upright on the sofa.
"She was afraid that you might listen to me." The explanation didn'tquite explain.
"I'm listening to you now," she said.
"Yes; yes"--and Randall smiled rather wanly--"Mrs. Carey is amind-reader, I think. She knew that I intended--she knew what I intendedto say," he corrected his phrasing, "and she didn't want me to say it."
Into Clancy's eyes came glints of merriment.
"Oh, yes; she was afraid that you would propose to me."
Somehow or other, without Clancy putting it into words, her mannerindicated an amused scorn. Randall was in love--in love in that terrificand overwhelmingly passionate fashion that only love at first sight canattain. But he was a grown man, who had proved, by his business success,his right to walk among men. He was good-natured, would always begood-natured. But he had self-respect. And now he hit back.
"Oh, no," he said; "she was afraid that you would accept me."
Not afraid to hit back, nevertheless, for a moment, he feared that hehad struck too hard. He misread, at first, the light in Clancy's eyes.He thought it was anger.
But, to his relieved amazement, she began to laugh.
"Some one has a flattering conception of you, Mr. Randall," she toldhim.
He grinned cheerfully.
"Not flattering, Miss Deane--correct."
"Hm." Clancy pursed her lips. "You think well of Mr. David Randall,don't you?"
"I couldn't offer you goods of whose value I had any doubt, Miss Deane,"he retorted.
Clancy's respect for him reached an amazing altitude. He could, afterall, then, be quick of speech. And Clancy liked a man who could findready verbal expression for his thoughts.
"I take it, then, that you are definitely offering me your hand andfifty per cent of all your worldly goods, Mr. Randall."
"Do you accept them?" he asked.
Clancy shook her head, smiling.
"Not to-day, thank you."
Randall frowned.
"Mrs. Carey is altogether too ambitious," he said. "She couldn't playFate."
Clancy made a _moue_.
"Oh, then, last night--you think it might have been different?"
"I have no thoughts, Miss Deane--merely hopes. But Mrs. Carey said thatyou were worried-- I could see that, too--and she thought that it wasn'tfair----"
Clancy felt a sudden resentment at Sophie Carey. After all, even thoughMrs. Carey had been ever so kind, it had all been voluntary. Clancyhadn't dreamed of asking anything of her. And even involuntary kindness,grudging kindness, doesn't bestow upon the donor the right to directthe affairs of the donee. Once again, she was rather certain that sheand Sophie Carey would never be real friends. She would always owe theolder woman gratitude, but----
"Not fair, eh? You didn't mind that, though."
The humor left Randall's eyes. He was deadly serious as he answered,
"Miss Deane, any way that I could get you would be fair enough for me."
"But why hurry matters?" smiled Clancy.
"'Hurry?'" His smile was a little bit uneasy. "You--you're destined to agreat success, Miss Deane, and pretty soon I'm afraid that you'll be waybeyond my reach."
"I suppose that I should courtesy," said Clancy. "But I won't. I'llsimply tell you that----"
"Don't tell me anything unless it's something I want to hear," heinterposed.
"You'll like this, I'm sure," she said naively. "Because I was going totell you that I like you immensely, and--well, I like you."
"And you won't marry me?"
"Well, not now, at any rate," she replied.
He rose abruptly.
"I'm sorry--awfully sorry. You see--last night--it's altogetherridiculous, I suppose, my expecting, daring to hope, even, that a girllike you would fall in love with me so soon. But--you're so lovely!Vandervent--last night--please don't be offended--and I'm leaving townto-day."
"'Leaving town?'" Clancy was shocked.
"That's why. I'll be gone a month. And I've never met a girl like you.Never will again; I know that. I--didn't want to tell you last night.It wasn't absolutely decided. If I'd taken you home--well, I'd have toldyou. Because I'd have proposed then. But not at Mrs. Carey's. I hopedto--sort of surprise you in the taxi. But that chance went. You spentthe night at her house. And I'm leaving to-day."
"Where for?" she asked. She didn't know how dull her voice had suddenlybecome. She wasn't in love with Randall. Clancy Deane was not the kindto surrender her heart at the first request. Her head would not rule herheart, yet it would guide it. Under normal conditions, even had shefallen in love with Randall, she would not have married him offhand, ashe suggested. She would demand time in which to think the matter over.
But these were abnormal conditions. She was in danger. In the raremoments, when she could force her mind to analyze the situation, shebelieved that her danger was not great, that the police _must_ believeher story. But she was a young and somewhat headstrong girl; feartri
umphed over reason most of the time.
If she loved Randall, she might have accepted him. Of course, she wouldhave told him her predicament. She was enough of a character-reader toknow that Randall would believe her and marry her. But she didn't lovehim.
"California," he said. "A moving-picture combination. They've asked meto handle the flotation of stock and the placing of the bonds. It's abig thing, and I want to look the proposition over." He leaned suddenlynear to her. "Oh, don't you think that you can come with me? If youknew how much I cared!"
She shook her head.
"I don't love you," she said.
He managed a smile. The nicest thing about him, Clancy decided, was hissportsmanship.
"Well, I _have_ rushed matters, Miss Deane. But--don't forget me,please."
"I won't," she promised. "And I hope you have a fine trip and make agreat success."
"Thank you," he said. "Good-by."
They touched hands for a moment, and then he was gone. Thus banal,almost always, are the moments that follow upon the ones that havereached for the height of emotion.
Clancy was left alone almost before she realized it. Up-stairs, in hershabby bedroom, she wondered if any other girl had ever crowded so muchof differing experience into a few days. Truth was stranger thanfiction--save in this: in fiction, all difficulties were finallysurmounted, all problems solved.
But her own case-- One who flees always prejudices his case. FanchonDeLisle's reply to Vandervent's telegram would arrive by the morrow,anyway. The only reason that Clancy had not been called upon byVandervent's men that she could conceive was that the storm had delayedthe transmission of telegrams. A thin reed on which to lean! Shesuddenly wished with all her heart that she loved Randall. If she didlove him, she could demand his protection. That protection suddenlyloomed large before her frightened eyes.
Well, there was only one thing to do. Accepting defeat bravely isbetter than running away from it eternally. Also, in her mind lived theidea that Vandervent might possibly-- Absurd! He'd only met her lastnight. And he was an officer of the law, sworn to do his duty.
She had no preconceived idea of what she'd do. She felt dull,bewildered, dazed.
Surrender! It was the only thing to do. Better by far that than beingrudely taken to the Tombs. She'd read of the Tombs prison. What ahorrible name! How it suggested the gruesome things! Lesser charactersthan Clancy for much less reason have had recourse to poison, to otherthings-- It never even entered her head.
Mrs. Gerand, amazed at the question, told her where to find the districtattorney's office. Clancy fought her way to the Astor Place subwaystation. She got off at Brooklyn Bridge. From there, a policemandirected her to the Criminal Courts Building. In the lobby, an attendanttold her that Mr. Vandervent's office was on the third floor. She tookan elevator, and, after entering two offices, was correctly directed. Toa clerk who asked her business, she merely replied:
"Tell Mr. Vandervent that Florine Ladue wishes to see him."
The clerk showed no surprise. That was natural. Vandervent's underlings,of course, knew nothing of the clue which Vandervent possessed to theidentity of the Beiner murderer. He departed toward an inner office.
Clancy sank down upon a wooden bench. Well, this was the end. Shesupposed that she'd be handcuffed, locked in a cell. She picked up anewspaper, a paper largely devoted to theatrical doings. Idly she readthe dramatic gossip. She turned a page, and glanced a second time at aportrait displayed there.
It was a picture of Fanchon DeLisle. Her bosom rose; in her excitementshe did not breathe. For beneath the picture was a head-line reading:
FAMOUS SOUBRETTE DIES OF INFLUENZA
She read the brief paragraph that followed. Fanchon DeLisle, leadingwoman of the New York Blondes Company, had died of the "flu" in Belknap,Ohio, on Wednesday afternoon. It was her second attack of the disease.Clancy's eyes blurred. She read no more. She looked about her. She mustescape. Fanchon DeLisle was the only person who could tell Vanderventthat Florine Ladue was Clancy Deane. Of course, Fay Marston knew, butFay Marston's knowledge was not known to the police. Only FanchonDeLisle could, just now, at any rate, tell that Clancy-- She had sent inthe name, Florine Ladue!
She must escape before Vandervent-- But even as she rose tremblingly toher feet, Vandervent entered the outer reception-room. He stopped shortat sight of Clancy. His mouth opened. But Clancy didn't hear what hesaid, because she fainted.
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