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He put out a hand and took one of hers.
"But it all came through you. Didn't it?"
"But--but you said you had never seen d.i.c.k Garstin till he came up and asked you to sit to him."
"That was not true. I saw him with you that night at the Cafe Royal.
That is why I came to the studio. I knew I should meet you there.
And--you knew."
Again the terribly shrewd glance came into his eyes. She saw it and felt no strength for denial. From the first he must have thoroughly understood her.
"You and I, we are not babies," he said gently. "We wanted to know each other, and so it happened. I have done all this for you. Now I ask you to tell d.i.c.k Garstin for me."
"I'll do what I can," she said.
He pressed her hand softly.
"You are not one of those who are afraid," he said. "You do what you choose--even at night."
She thought of the episode in Shaftesbury Avenue.
"Then you--you--"
"But I do not need to take a s.h.i.+lling from a lady!"
"You didn't know me that night!" she said defiantly.
"Ah, but when I heard you speak in the studio I knew!"
"And you follow women like that at night!"
She tried to draw away her hand, but he would not let her.
"You drew me after you--not knowing. It was what they call occult."
"Then why did you go away?"
"I felt that I had been wrong, that you didn't wish me to speak to you."
"Do you mean when I--that you suspected what I was?"
"Something said to me, 'This is a lady. She does strange things, she is not like others, but she is a lady. Go away.'"
"And in the studio--"
"When you spoke I knew."
She felt degraded. She could not explain. And she felt confused. She did not understand this man. His curious reticence that night, after his audacity, was inexplicable to her. What could he think of her? What must he think?
"I was going out that night to dine in a restaurant in Soho with some friends," she said, trying to speak very naturally. "I wanted some fresh air, so I walked."
"Why not? I beg you to forgive me for my rudeness. I feel very ashamed of it now. I have learnt in all these days to respect you very much."
His voice sounded so earnest, so sincere, that she felt suddenly a sense of relief. After all, he had always treated her with respect. He had never been impertinent, or even really audacious, and yet he had always known that she had wanted to meet him, that she had meant to meet him!
He had never taken advantage of that knowledge. If he were really what d.i.c.k Garstin said he was, surely he would have acted differently.
"Do you really respect me?" she said.
"Yes. Have I not shown it in all these days? Have I ever done anything a lady could object to?"
"No."
Her hand still lay in his, and his touch had aroused in her that strange and intense desire to belong to him which seemed a desire entirely of the body, something with which the mind had little or nothing to do.
"Are you evil?" her eyes were asking him.
And his eyes, looking straight down into hers, seemed steadily and simply to deny it.
"Do you believe the lie of d.i.c.k Garstin?" they said to her.
And she no longer knew whether she believed it or not.
He drew a little nearer to her.
"I respect you--yes," he said. "But that is not all. I have another feeling for you. I have had it ever since I first saw you that night, when I was standing by the door in the Cafe Royal and you looked at me."
"But--but you--"
"Yes?"
Her lips trembled. Again jealousy seized her.
"I saw you that night in Conduit Street," she said. "You thought I didn't, but I did."
He still looked perfectly calm and untroubled.
"You were dining with d.i.c.k Garstin. May I not dine with someone?"
"Then why did you leave the restaurant?"
"I did not want you to see me."
"Ah!"
"I thought you might not understand."
"I do understand. I understand perfectly!"
She drew her hand sharply away from his.