The Hillman Part 20

He answered her with perfect seriousness.

"I believe so," he admitted, "but I should not like to say that I am absolutely certain. I have come here to find out."

Sophy suddenly rocked with laughter.

"You are the dearest, queerest madman I have ever met!" she exclaimed, holding tightly to his arm. "You sit there with a face as long as a fiddle, wondering whether you are in love with a girl or not! Well, I am not going to ask you anything more. Tell me, are you tired?"

"Not a bit," he declared. "I never had such a ripping evening in my life."

She held his arm a little tighter. She was the old Sophy again, full of life and gaiety.

"Let's go to the Aldwych," she suggested, "and see the dancing. We can just have something to drink. We needn't have any more supper."

"Rather!" he a.s.sented readily. "But where is it, and what is it?"

"Just a supper club," she told him. "Tell the man No. 19 Kean Street.

What fun! I haven't been there for weeks."

"What about my clothes?" he asked.

"You'll be all right," she a.s.sured him. "You're quite a nice-looking person, and the manager is a friend of mine."

The cab stopped a few minutes later outside what seemed to be a private house except for the presence of a commissionnaire upon the pavement.

The door was opened at once, and John was relieved of his hat and stick by a cloak-room attendant. Sophy wrote his name in a book, and they were ushered by the manager, who had come forward to greet them, into a long room, brilliantly lit, and filled, except in the center, with supper-tables.

They selected one near the wall and close to the open s.p.a.ce in which, at the present moment, a man and a woman were dancing. The floor was of hardwood, and there was a little raised platform for the orchestra. John looked around him wonderingly. The popping of champagne corks was almost incessant. A slightly voluptuous atmosphere of cigarette-smoke, mingled with the perfumes shaken from the clothes and hair of the women, several more of whom were now dancing, hung about the place. A girl in fancy dress was pa.s.sing a great basket of flowers from table to table.

Sophy sat with her head resting upon her hands and her face very close to her companion's, keeping time with her feet to the music.

"Isn't this rather nice?" she whispered. "Do you like being here with me, Mr. John Strangewey?"

"Of course I do," he answered heartily. "Is this a restaurant?"

She shook her head.

"No, it's a club. We can sit here all night, if you like."

"Can I join?" he asked.

She laughed as she bent for a form and made him fill it in.

"Tell me," he begged, as he looked around him, "who are these girls?

They look so pretty and well dressed, and yet so amazingly young to be out at this time of night."

"Mostly actresses," she replied, "and musical-comedy girls. I was in musical comedy myself before Louise rescued me."

"Did you like it?"

"I liked it all right," she admitted, "but I left it because I wasn't doing any good. I can dance pretty well, but I have no voice, so there didn't seem to be any chance of my getting out of the chorus; and one can't even pretend to live on the salary they pay you, unless one has a part."

"But these girls who are here to-night?"

"They are with their friends, of course," she told him. "I suppose, if it hadn't been for Louise, I should have been here, too--with a friend."

"I should like to see you dance," he remarked, in a hurry to change the conversation.

"I'll dance to you some day in your rooms, if you like," she promised.

"Or would you like me to dance here? There is a man opposite who wants me to. Would you rather I didn't? I want to do just which would please you most."

"Dance, by all means," he insisted. "I should like to watch you."

She nodded, and a minute or two later she had joined the small crowd in the center of the room, clasped in the arms of a very immaculate young man who had risen and bowed to her from a table opposite. John leaned back in his place and watched her admiringly. Her feet scarcely touched the ground. She never once glanced at or spoke to her partner, but every time she pa.s.sed the corner where John was sitting, she looked at him and smiled.

He, for his part, watched her no longer with pleasant interest, but with almost fascinated eyes. The spirit of the place was creeping into his blood. His long years of seclusion seemed like a spell of time lying curiously far away, a crude period, mislived in an atmosphere which, notwithstanding its austere sweetness, took no account of the human cry.

He refilled his gla.s.s with champagne and deliberately drank its contents. It was splendid to feel so young and strong, to feel the wine in his veins, his pulse and his heart moving to this new measure!

His eyes grew brighter, and he smiled back at Sophy. She suddenly released her hold upon her partner and stretched out her arms to him.

Her body swayed backward a little. She waved her hands with a gesture infinitely graceful, subtly alluring. Her lips were parted with a smile almost of triumph as she once more rested her hand upon her partner's shoulder.

"Who is your escort this evening?" the latter asked her, speaking almost for the first time.

"You would not know him," she replied. "He is a Mr. John Strangewey, and he comes from c.u.mberland."

"Just happens that I do know him," the young man remarked. "Thought I'd seen his face somewhere. Used to be up at the varsity with him. We once played rackets together. Hasn't he come into a pile just lately?"

"An uncle in Australia left him a fortune."

"I'll speak to him presently," the young man decided. "Always make a point of being civil to anybody with lots of oof!"

"I expect he'll be glad to meet you again," Sophy remarked. "He doesn't know a soul in town."

The dance was finished. They returned together to where John was sitting, and the young man held out a weary hand.

"Amerton, you know, of Magdalen," he said. "You're Strangewey, aren't you?"

"Lord Amerton, of course!" John exclaimed. "I thought your face was familiar. Why, we played in the rackets doubles together!"

"And won 'em, thanks to you," Amerton replied. "Are you up for long?"

"I am not quite sure," John told him. "I only arrived last night."

"Look me up some time, if you've nothing better to do," the young man suggested. "Where are you hanging out?"

"The Milan."

"I am at the Albany. So-long! Must get back to my little lady."

He bowed to Sophy and departed. She sank a little breathlessly into her chair and laid her hand on John's arm. Her cheeks were flushed, her bosom was rising and falling quickly.