Five minutes later, the woman whom Celia had seen in the corridor
entered the room. She was a pretty, graceful woman, little more than a
girl; but the beauty of the face was marred by a weak mouth and chin.
She was exquisitely dressed, her fingers were covered with rings, and
diamonds glittered on her snowy neck. Her face was pale, and her eyes
were swollen with weeping; and it was with something like a sob that she
said, as she stood at the table and looked down at the sullen, ghastly
face of her husband:-"Someone has been here--just gone; I heard a footstep; I know it.
Derrick has been here."
He would have lied to her if he had thought she would have believed the
lie.
"Yes," he said. "He has just gone. He--he came to say good-bye."
"Good-bye!" she repeated, her brows knitting with perplexity and
trouble. "Is he going? Where? Why? Didn't you tell him that Mr. Brand,
the lawyer, had--had paid the money and settled everything? Oh, if I had
only known it when I went to Derrick; if the letter had only come
before, so that I could have told him there was no need for him to fear
any--any trouble! But you told him, Percy?"
"Yes, of course I told him," he said, staring at his boots; "but he had
made up his mind to go abroad; and--and, 'pon my soul, I think it's the
best thing he could do."
She looked down on him with a face still showing trouble and doubt.
"But--but, Percy, he hadn't any money; he admitted as much to me. And I
couldn't give him any."
"That's all right," he said, clearing his throat. "I--I saw to that. I
couldn't give him much, unfortunately; but I scraped together all I'd
got. It will leave us pretty short of coin for a bit, Miriam."
She went to him quickly, put her arm round his shoulder, and, bending,
kissed him. "You did! That was good of you; it was like you,
Percy--after all that he has done, and the trouble he might have got you
into. I'm glad you gave him all you'd got; and I don't mind running
short."
Her cheeks were wet and wetted his; he drew his hand across his face
with barely-concealed impatience and annoyance.
"That's all right," he said. "Of course, I had to do the best I could
for him, poor devil! for the sake of--of old times. I didn't forget that
you were once fond of him--well, rather taken with him; that you were
old friends. Look here, Miriam, we don't want to harp upon this affair;
it's a beastly bad business, and the sooner we forget it the better. For
Heaven's sake, let's drop it here and now. I shan't refer to it, shan't
mention Derrick Dene's name again; and don't you. Just push that tray
over, will you? I've had a deuced unpleasant scene with him, I can tell
you; and it's upset me deucedly. But there!" he added, with a jerk of
the head, as he mixed a stiff soda and whisky, "there's an end of him,
so far as we're concerned. What?"