Elisabeth Sanxay Holding

“ The butler tried to stop him, but he pushed the anxious little man aside, and proceeded to the dining room.
They were there, the whole crowd of them, sitting about the disordered table, jaded and hot, and full of a restless languor. The air was thick with cigarette smoke. A little blue-eyed man with a gray mustache was performing an elaborate conjuring trick with match sticks and somebody's gold watch, and Serena lay back in her chair, looking at him with a distant smile. Her haggard face was flushed, her eyes heavy. Jesse Page thought he had never seen her more beautiful, or more hateful. ”

“ Serena and her friends had certainly intended to be back for tea, but they had not come. They never could do what they meant to do. Obstacles intervened, and they were not well equipped for dealing with obstacles. It took so little to stop them, to bar a road, to turn them off toward a new destination. They had not come back, and Geraldine was having her tea alone in the library, reading a book as she sipped it.
That was how Sambo first saw her, sitting, very straight, in a high-backed chair, with the last light of the sunset on her clear, pale face. ”

“ Serena! Never was a woman so misnamed!
She came down the stairs, her filmy black negligee floating out behind her, so that she seemed, as always, to be coming in a breeze—an artificial breeze, though, perfumed and enervating, bringing no health or color. She was without make-up at this early hour. Her handsome, haggard face was pale, her eyes were heavy.
She entered the breakfast room, and there was the Moriarty girl, standing by the window.
“Good morning, Mrs. Page,” she said, with that enigmatic smile of hers. ”

“ I had to promise I'd never speak to Sambo again. I simply can't—”
“I tell you he's hurt!” reiterated Geraldine, with a sort of horror. “It may be serious. He may be—”
Serena began to cry.
“I can't help it! I'm awfully sorry, but I simply can't have any more trouble with Jesse. You ought to see that—”
“Mrs. Page,” said Geraldine, “he may be dying. He's got to be brought in here at once!”
“I can't help it!” cried Serena petulantly. “Sam Randall is nothing to me, and Jesse is simply everything. Jesse's the only man I ever really cared for, and I won't—”
“You beast!” said Geraldine. ”

“ She's so indifferent and ungrateful!”
“Those people are always envious,” said Mrs. Anson. “Governesses and companions—they're not exactly servants, you know, and yet they're not—well, they're simply out of everything.”
“I wish she'd stay out altogether!” said Serena.
Geraldine Moriarty wished the same thing. As she stepped out through the long window of the breakfast room to the lawn, she wished that she need never set foot in that house again. She hated it, she hated the life there, and at times she came dangerously close to hating the people in it. ”

“ He turned to help her, tore the scarf loose, and then, with a strange little whistling sigh, doubled over, with his head lying against the side of the car.
“Mr. Randall!” she cried. “Sambo! Oh, what's the matter?”
There was no answer from him. The engine was still running, the headlights were shining out in the dark. The car was like a living creature, trembling with impatience to be off, but the owner and master of it lay still and silent. Geraldine reached out her hand, and her fingers touched the soft, short hair on his temple. ”

“ Geraldine put on her hat and took up a scarf—a funny, old-fashioned knitted scarf that made Jinky smile. She could never afterward think of that evening without remembering the old scarf.
VIII Sambo Sat in his car, smoking, and contemplating the starry sky. He was very unhappy, very much troubled, and so intent upon his own affairs that Serena's lateness had caused him no concern whatever. Indeed, when he thought of her at all, it was to wish that she would never come. He wished that he could start up his car and drive off somewhere—into another world. ”

“ No—all the Moriarty girl had to do was to look on, and of course to admire; and it was at this simple task that she so utterly failed.
She didn't seem to admire anything or anybody, not even herself. She was ironically indifferent to her own dark beauty. She had no decent clothes, and when Serena had offered her some very good things that she was tired of, Geraldine had refused—politely, of course. She was always polite, always careful not to give Serena any excuse for getting rid of her. ”

“ Miss Moriarty went on eating with an excellent appetite. She was never talkative. She was quiet, but with a quiet which Serena did not find restful or soothing. She was a tall girl, thin and supple, with a careless grace in every movement. Her face had a gypsy darkness, with high cheek bones, features delicate and yet bold, and black eyes with a scornful light in them. She was dressed in a black skirt, a black jersey, and a plain white blouse—a costume that made her look lanky, thought the dieting Serena ”

“ We were going to run over to the Abercrombies' in his car. If I don't show up, he'll come back here, and they'll telephone. Oh, Jinky, I'm—”
“Hold up a minute! Let's see! No use in my going—Jesse would tag along; but the Moriarty girl could go.”
“Moriarty!” cried Serena. “You're simply insane, Jinky! Why, she's the most—”
“I think she's a pretty decent sort of kid. Anyhow, I'll try.”
“But, Jinky, she's ill—didn't come down to dinner. She sent me word that she had an awful headache. There's no use wasting time over her.” ”

“ She locked the door and stood leaning against it, in the dark, breathing a little fast from her haste and anger.
She hated him! Vivid before her was the image of his handsome face, flushed with drinking, and of his conqueror's smile. Intolerable was the memory of his hand upon her shoulder. She hated him, and she could almost hate herself because even for a minute she had thought he was different.
IV The next morning, when Geraldine came downstairs, the house was like an enchanted castle. The sun was streaming in, for it was full day, yet all the rooms were silent and deserted. ”

“ She stood there, smoking her cigarette, a haggard, reckless, wasted young creature, just waiting to see if the other girl was willing to help. It was up to Geraldine.
“I'll go,” she said.
“Moriarty,” cried Jinky, “you're a little gentleman! Hurry up now! I'll help you.”
Geraldine needed assistance. Her hands were so unsteady that she was glad to let Jinky pin up her hair and hook her belt.
“Now, step!” said Jinky. “And see here, Moriarty—better let Sambo run you down to the Abercrombies' and tell them not to telephone here. See Olive Abercrombie yourself; she's got a down on Sambo. ”

“ Serena smiled, too, but faintly. Geraldine Moriarty was beginning to get on her nerves very badly, and she was longing for an excuse to fly into a rage with the girl. That was the only way Serena could get rid of people. She could do nothing in cold blood. She had taken on Geraldine in an outburst of generosity, and she would have to have an outburst of anger before she could send her away. ”

“ No, no! To-day, Sambo? But can't you give me some idea what time? Surely some time to-day? Oh, all right! By-by, big boy!”
She came back to the table and sank into her chair, laughing.
“I'll take a slice of that ham,” she said to the butler, “and cream for my coffee. Quick! I'm starving!” Then she looked at Geraldine. “Sammy Randall is coming,” she announced.
“How nice,” said Geraldine.
But Serena missed any irony there may have been in the words. Mrs. Anson had appeared in the doorway, and she called to her:
“Betty, Sambo's coming out to-day!” ”

“ She paused. “It's serious,” she went on. “Jesse means business. You can help these people if you want to. If you don't want to, all right! It's up to you.”
This was the first time Geraldine had had a problem presented to her in such a way. There was no question of right or wrong. Evidently Jinky thought it didn't matter whether these people deserved to be helped or not. She simply offered the other girl a chance to do a decent thing.
Geraldine looked at Jinky, and found Jinky looking at her; and Savonarola never preached a more eloquent sermon than Jinky did by her silence. ”

“ But he prudently kept his interest in Miss Moriarty to himself, and behaved as he was expected to behave. The diet was postponed, and Serena had asked the butler to see that there was “an awfully good dinner.” He had justified her blind faith in him, for the dinner was an excellent one. From the well stocked cellar he had selected the proper wines; but nobody cared for these. They all preferred whisky. Throughout the meal they drank whisky and smoked cigarettes, and their talk was in keeping with this.
“It's not my business,” thought Geraldine. “I can't change the world. ”

“ He had no more respect for her than he had for these other women. He thought she was like them, and would be flattered by a smile from him. She hated him!
She had a fine opportunity to test his alleged humility that very day. By noon, the rest of the household had come downstairs, languid and heavy-eyed, and all in need of “bracers”; but not Sambo. He was not jaded or depressed. He laughed at the others. It seemed to Geraldine that wherever she went she could hear the sound of his debonair laughter. He was easily the leader among them. No longer was Serena their queen ”

“ She drew nearer, and kissed his hair.
“Oh, Sambo, dear!” she said. “I will help you!”
Then she set off across the lawn that lay before her like a vast wilderness. She dared not hurry, lest some one might see her and question her. She had to go at a quiet and ordinary pace, had to restrain her passionate impulse to run.
“Brandy!” she thought. “That's what they give people who faint. I'm sure there's some on the sideboard in the dining room. I mustn't be silly. I mustn't let go of myself!” ”

“ Serena took her place at the table, and the Japanese butler came forward to serve her. She did not know his name. She was not even sure that she had seen him before. She got her servants from an agency in the city, which upon demand would send her out a “crew” commanded by a butler. Sometimes things went wrong, and the whole lot left together; but another crew always came promptly, and her household suffered very little from the change. She had the art of making her home as impersonal as a hotel; but she did notice this butler. ”

“ She went into the breakfast room and rang, and the butler came hurrying in, smiling cheerfully. She told him what she wanted to eat, and crossed to the window, for a breath of sweet air and a glimpse of the garden in its morning beauty.
The first thing she saw was Sam Randall, on the terrace, smoking a cigarette. Her first impulse was to run away. He was down at the other end, and he had not seen her yet; but she checked herself with a sort of severity. Why should she run away from him? What had she to do with him, or with any of the. people in this house? ”

“ Suddenly the car slowed down. Geraldine opened her eyes, faintly surprised to find the world so quiet again.
“Need gas,” he explained.
He stopped before a little gasoline station, theatrically brilliant against the dark trees. He jumped out, lifted the hood, looked in at the engine, was satisfied; and, closing the hood, turned to speak to the man who had come out of the station. ”

“ I won't have anything to do with—with that!”
“You needn't think it's a grand operatic tragedy,” said Jinky. “Serena and Sam aren't exactly Tristan and Isolde. There's nothing very wicked in their little flirtation; but Jesse Page just came home in a pretty poisonous temper, and if Sambo comes back to the house now there'll be trouble.” ”

“ Serena wanted to visit some friends, Mrs. Anson wanted to play bridge, Levering wanted to go out on the yacht, but Sambo said they would go to the Country Club, and he had his way. Every one went upstairs to dress, except Geraldine. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1955, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 68 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”