He saw the colour die out of her face. Her hands went slowly to her temples.
“That means something to you, Laura. What does it mean?”
“Shirley Margaret Evelyn, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost…” Her voice trailed off.
“Shirley’s christening. I was Shirley’s proxy godmother. I held her, and I wanted to drop her down on the stones! I wanted her to be dead! That’s what was in my mind. I wished her to be dead. And now-now-she is dead.”
She dropped her face suddenly on her hands.
“Laura, dearest, I see-oh, I see. And the flames? That means something too?”
“I prayed. Yes, prayed. I lit a candle for my Intention. And do you know what my Intention was? I wanted Shirley to die. And now-”
“Stop, Laura. Don’t go on saying that. The fire-what happened?”
“It was the same night. I woke up. There was smoke. The house was on fire. I thought my prayer had been answered. And then I heard the baby give a queer little cry, and then suddenly it was all different. The only thing I wanted was to get her out safe. And I did. She wasn’t even singed. I got her out on to the grass. And then I found it was all gone-the jealousy, the wanting to be first-all gone, and I loved her, loved her terribly. I’ve loved her ever since.”
“My dear-oh! my dear.”
Again he leaned across the desk towards her.
He said urgently:
“You do see, don’t you, that my coming here-”
He was interrupted as the door opened.
Miss Harrison came in breathlessly:
“The specialist is here-Mr. Bragg. He’s in A ward, and is asking for you.”
Laura rose.
“I’ll come at once.” Miss Harrison withdrew, and Laura said hurriedly:
“I’m sorry. I must go now. If you’ll arrange to send me Shirley’s things…”
“I’d rather you came to dine with me at my hotel. It’s the ‘Windsor,’ near Charing Cross Station. Can you come to-night?”
“I’m afraid to-night’s impossible.”
“Then to-morrow.”
“It’s difficult for me to get away in the evenings-”
“You are off duty then. I’ve already inquired about that.”
“I have other arrangements-commitments….”
“It’s not that. You’re afraid.”
“Very well then, I’m afraid.”
“Of me?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
“Why? Because you think I’m mad?”
“No. You’re not mad. It’s not that.”
“But still you are afraid. Why?”
“I want to be let alone. I don’t want my-my way of life disturbed. Oh! I don’t know what I’m talking about. And I must go.”
“But you’ll dine with me-when? To-morrow? The day after? I shall wait here in London until you do.”
“To-night, then.”
“And get it over!” He laughed and suddenly, to her own surprise, she laughed with him. Then, her gravity restored, she went quickly to the door. Llewellyn stood aside to let her pass, and opened the door for her.
“Windsor Hotel, eight o’clock. I’ll be waiting.”
CHAPTER two
1
Laura sat before her mirror in the bedroom of her tiny Sat. There was a queer smile on her lips as she studied her face. In her right hand she held a lipstick, and she looked down now at the name engraved on the gilt case. Fatal Apple.
She wondered again at the unaccountable impulse that had taken her so suddenly into the luxurious perfumed interior of the shop that she passed every day.
The assistant had brought out a selection of lipsticks, trying them for her to see on the back of a slim hand with long exotic fingers and deep carmine nails.
Little smears of pink and cerise and scarlet and maroon and cyclamen, some of them hardly distinguishable from one another except by their names-such fantastic names they seemed to Laura.
Pink Lightning, Buttered Rum, Misty Coral, Quiet Pink, Fatal Apple.
It was the name that attracted her, not the colour.
Fatal Apple… it carried with it the suggestion of Eve, of temptation, of womanhood.
Sitting before the mirror, she carefully painted her lips.
Baldy! She thought of Baldy, pulling up bindweed and lecturing her so long ago. What had he said “Show you’re a woman, hang out your flag, go after your man….”