Cynthia Stockley

“ Loree Temple, seated at a table just below it, looked often at this picture and then contemplatively at her own image in a mirror on the wall. It seemed a pity that Rhodes was dead, the Boer War over and all the mining adventurers gone away. She would have liked to live and love among such men instead of being married to Pat Temple. None but the brave deserve the fair, and she imagined her beauty adorning a scene of “triumph and roses and wine” when gallantry returned to white arms and the soft rewards of victory. ”

“ It was certain that she could not be indisposed for ever and stay shut up in her room. For one thing, she was a healthy creature, and liked air and light and sunshine. But the fear of Quelch and the fires she knew she had set blazing in him worried her. Why could he not behave himself, she thought resentfully. Life would be so pleasant and delicious but for him. She no longer required the thrill of his passionate admiration. The diamonds gave her thrill enough.
Valeria Cork, too, she felt, could not always be relied upon to stand by, lending the protection of her presence. ”

“ When you are loitering on the perilous precipices, where the fire-flowers blow, words are little ropes and holds by which you keep your footing. But Quelch smiled like a man who has his feet on firm ground, and enfolded her always with his bold yet subtle glance.
She was vaguely thankful for the presence of a man reading on a bench, and when Quelch wanted to drive her out into the empty veld, which the sinking sun had flooded with blood-red light, she resisted the adventure, murmuring that she must return and write a letter to catch the night post for Rhodesia. ”

“ And it was all for women! That gave her a thrill she had never felt before. Men slaved and wore out their lives and were killed down there, so that women might wear diamonds. Those little sparkling stones were tokens of love between men and women—imperishable counters of passion!
It began to stir her uneasily from that moment to think she had never possessed a diamond. Why had Pat only given her tristful white pearls? ”

“ Only stupid men underrate the magic influence of gifts, especially the fragrant gift of flowers. Those roses scented all the afternoon.
Quelch had the art of communicating himself without words. Loree was acutely aware of his insolent pride in her beauty as they drove through the streets. Men possess a curious degree this scratch-brant delight in the lust of the eye and pride of life. In Africa, perhaps they indulge it more than in most places. Climate may have something to do with it, but it is a dull affair to be a plain woman there, and to be a pretty one singularly intoxicating. ”

“ She knew she had proved herself unworthy of help on this woman’s part, but she thought of Pat, and her glance was entreating.
“No woman has ever helped me,” stated Valeria Cork. “A woman stole my husband and destroyed my happiness. In all my goings up and down, and struggles to live uprightly, women have kicked me and wiped their boots on me.” What gleam of hope she had felt left Loree’s heart, but came back at Valeria’s next words: “That is no reason why I should be as base as they. And, at the last, you have shown me that a woman can be kind to another. ”

“ Forgive me! Your loveliness, the sweetness of you drives me beyond myself. When will you come to me?”
“Come to you?” She looked dazed and strange, clinging to the pergola, staring at him.
“Come with me. We will go away from here at once—to Europe—all over the world.”
“But I—” she began. He interrupted her gently.
“There is a mail for the Cape to-morrow night. I cannot wait a moment longer, Loree.”
“I will not come!” She drew herself up in a last effort at resistance.
“There must be no ‘will not.’” His eyes grew colder, his jaw resolute. He put out a light finger and touched the diamonds. ”

“ But it rally served to enhance the violet of her eyes.
Needless to say, she did not write after dinner. It was so very pleasant sitting in the verandah, smelling the drenched roses out in the gloom of the garden and listening to Quelch’s voice. He no longer talked about diamonds, but about life. Of its loneliness. Of its irony. Of chance that comes too late. Of being rich and going empty. Of suffering thirst and knowing the torment of mirage. Of the desolation of being on the wrong side of the gate of the one “blue garden” in all the wide desert of the world. ”

“ Neither he nor any one else could have guessed from outward and visible signs that the sweet vision in diaphanous draperies of Madonna blue carried a canker at her heart—a canker in a little silk bag.
The racing car was at the door—a keen-nosed silvery affair, with no seats, only flat cushions of sleek grey silk. They had to climb over the sides and sit cheek by jowl on the floor, and there was a great sheaf of scarlet roses for Loree’s lap. It is no use denying that these charming attentions touch women deeply. ”

“ He knew that no man could ever be great who had a shameful mother—and He had pity on my son. Oh, Loree, Loree—if ever you have a son, starve with him in a garret, scratch with him in the gutter, but never imperil for him your immortal soul. ‘What you give of gold and silver stands nothing; only as much as you have of soul avails.’ Some great man said that, and it is true. Only what you give of the soul avails.”
In the morning, to a wretched Loree, weary-eyed from haunted dreams, came a letter from Quelch. ”

“ She had lit many little fires in the eyes of men—hungry little fires of longing and desire and admiration such as most women think it no shame to light and leave burning. But through it all she had felt a consuming fear about the diamonds. That horrible incident had shaken her through and through, and come near to spoiling her pleasure in the rest of life. And now since Quelch had spoken the words that put an end to her suspense she allowed herself for a moment to realise the terror of what might have been if Mrs Solano had been able to make good her claim. ”

“ The only fault she could find was that she looked too innocent. That, she felt sure was a grave defect in a woman of the world. Be innocent, yes, thought Loraine Loree, but don’t look it, or people will think you are just out of the schoolroom. An abominable thing for a married woman of one year to have thought about her.
She wondered what on earth she could do to give herself the right note of sophistication and awareness that there was wickedness in the world? She was wearing Pat’s pearls; on her fingers, in her ears, round her throat: and they made her look more innocent than ever. ”

“ When they returned to the car, Mrs Cork had recovered her good humour. Quelch proposed a drive to Alexandersfontein (a sort of Southern Coney Island) and dismissing the chauffeur, took the wheel himself. Loree had the sensation of tasting life very sweet between the lips as they flew along through the cooling air into the heart of a blazing sunset. She knew that the strangely attractive man beside her was more than a little in love with her—and when will such knowledge cease to exhilarate a woman’s blood? ”

“ All pretty women do. But there is no denying that the sight of her, as she sat there, would have spoiled many a woman’s sleep and gladdened the heart of any man—a girl with red hair and a redder rose in it, the milky skin such hair ensures, a sweet ensnaring mouth, eyes with a plaintive expression in them, a string of small but perfect pearls round her young throat, and a black georgette gown by Viola. Pat always liked her to wear black while he was away. ”

“ Discontent seized her, and she went down to lunch feverishly anxious for any excitement that would revive the delicious spell under which she had lain for forty-eight hours and which now appeared to be dying off. Quelch was sitting in the hall, gossiping idly with Mrs Cork and watching the staircase. His habit of lunching at the club, for reasons of his own not far to seek, had been renounced. If ever a man took a woman into his arms with his eyes, he did it as Loree came toward him. The excitement she sought was supplied. Hot colour surged in her cheek and glowed to her hair. ”

“ Young as she was, Loree Temple had tasted the sweets of homage before now, and learned when it is fitting to lightly accept or coldly pass them by. But this man’s homage, both bold and subtle, was outside of her experience. She was a little frightened—disturbed yet held in thrall. She had an instinct that he was dangerous, but wild horses could not have dragged her away. In the meantime, she used such women’s gifts as the good God had given her. She gave a little careless laugh.
“Oh—there are lots of women like me in the world. But diamonds are not for all of us.” ”

“ Her gown of cloth of gold shone like a blaze of daffodils. Diamonds shone all over her too; in the buckles of her shoes, on her large able hands, on her plump but not shapeless arms. Youth had gone, and fat had come, but beauty had not entirely deserted her. She had one of those corsetted figures that make men wonder at the endurance of women, but her sufferings did not dim the brilliance of her smile nor the resonance of her hearty laughter which occasionally rang through the room. ”

“ But to-day there was, naturally, a long account of the Royal reception and Ball of the night before. Loree glanced down the printed columns to find herself famous as “the lovely Mrs Temple.” Far more room was given to her in the news than to the famous Princess Evelyn. Every item of her toilette was described, every shade of her gown, every leaf almost in the sheaf of roses she had carried. The journalists dwelt upon her glorious hair, its maze of bronze curls above her face of ivory and roses, they spoke of the grace of her walk, her exquisite dancing. ”

“ The garden was dimly luminant with the promise of was that men discovered out there among dawn, yet not light enough to show what it the roses. One or two women devoured by curiosity began to push forward, but returning men barred the way. There were murmurs of an accident. People with good eyesight imagined they saw a slow procession moving through the grounds. Suddenly Quelch appearing from the gloom of trees and shrubs walked into the brightly-lit verandah. Loree forgot her grievances against him and ran to meet him. ”

“ For the homeward drive Loree offered her the front seat, but she preferred silence and solitude in the body of the car, and the others did not deny her. When two people are on the brink of an entrancing flirtation, they cannot truthfully “grieve as them that have no hope,” if they are left to themselves. In the warm rushing darkness of the night no word was exchanged between Quelch and Loree, but they advanced quite a long way on the perilous path of forbidden primroses. ”

“ Mrs Cork sulkily declared that, though she did not mind prolonging the drive, she wanted no more to do with mines. When they reached the big hole, she closed her eyes, tucked herself under her mauve sunshade and said they could inspect it if they liked, but that her interest in the diamond industry was damped for ever.
“I believe she is really upset,” said Loree to Quelch, as they walked away.
“She need not be. The rule of watching is never relaxed. Every one is suspect while in contact with diamonds, and no one trusted. Even the watchers are watched.” ”

“ One of the first things you learn in Africa is that every one knows your private affairs nearly as well as you do yourself.
So the drive into the veld was renounced, but home was reached only by a route both long and obvious. Loree missed the post for Rhodesia by just ten minutes. There was time for nothing before dinner except a few moments’ secret genuflection at the shrine of a rose-pink idol. And after dinner-time flew past in the same astonishing fashion of the previous evening. Mrs Cork’s headache had evidently persisted, for she did not appear, and they neither missed nor mourned her. ”

“ Thus she reasoned, justifying herself for once more plunging into the fascinating game, walking on the wild precipice, fluttering near the live wire on which some women might meet disaster but to which she intended to remain invulnerable. The cruelty which so often comes with consciousness of power stirred her. She knew now that, though she felt the charm of Quelch, it would give her pleasure to punish him through his passion for her. ”

“ There was still no sign of Quelch, and Loree felt alternately relieved and elated by the fact. She knew she was looking her best and it seemed a pity he should miss a sight that would give him so much pleasure. On the other hand it was undeniably safer, not to say cooler, without him hovering like a hawk over her every movement. Mrs Cork had introduced several pleasant people and she did not find time hanging on her hands at all. Only one thing worried her a little. A very striking-looking woman was paying her a good deal of attention and seemed to be constantly striving to approach her. ”

“ Her brilliant, weary eyes wore an expression of having seen everything in the world worth seeing, and finding that nothing was worth having. Loree admired and intensely envied her air of “having lived,” and the cynical flavour of her speech. They had already exchanged smiles and fragments of conversation when meeting in the lounge and drawing-room, and Mrs Cork had told her that she was in Kimberley to consult a noted pedicurist about some trouble with her left foot. ”

“ Loree gave a long sigh.
“I cannot slip his clutches—at your expense,” she said at last.
“You have your husband to think of.”
The girl shook her head.
“You don’t know Pat. He would never let himself be saved anything at the expense of another, especially a woman.”
“He must never know that part of the story,” said Valeria firmly.
“But, Mrs Cork, I cannot! I feel it in my bones that Quelch will wreak vengeance on some one, and I cannot let you be sacrificed. You have got to think of yourself. Your boy, too—for whom—”
“For whom I stole,” supplemented Valeria. ”