Appointment with Death

‘You’ve no money.’

‘I could make, borrow, beg or steal it. Understand, Lennox, your mother has no power over me! I can go or stay at my will. I am beginning to feel that I have borne this life long enough.’

‘Nadine—don’t leave me—don’t leave me…’

She looked at him thoughtfully—quietly—with an inscrutable expression.

‘Don’t leave me, Nadine.’

He spoke like a child. She turned her head away, so that he should not see the sudden pain in her eyes.

She knelt down beside him.

‘Then come with me. Come with me! You can. Indeed you can if you only will!’

He shrank back from her.

‘I can’t. I can’t, I tell you. I haven’t—God help me—I haven’t the courage…’

Chapter 9 (#ulink_42b282c9-649f-5165-8b1b-d27a9de1ec93)

Dr Gerard walked into the office of Messrs Castle, the tourist agents, and found Sarah King at the counter.

She looked up.

‘Oh, good morning. I’m fixing up my tour to Petra. I’ve just heard you are going after all.’

‘Yes, I find I can just manage it.’

‘How nice.’

‘Shall we be a large party, I wonder?’

‘They say just two other women—and you and me. One car load.’

‘That will be delightful,’ said Gerard, with a little bow. Then he, in turn, attended to his business.

Presently, holding his mail in his hands, he joined Sarah as she stepped out of the office. It was a crisp, sunny day, with a slight cold tang in the air.

‘What news of our friends, the Boyntons?’ asked Dr Gerard. ‘I have been to Bethlehem and Nazareth and other places—a tour of three days.’

Slowly and rather unwillingly, Sarah narrated her abortive efforts to establish contact.

‘Anyhow, I failed,’ she finished. ‘And they’re leaving today.’

‘Where are they going?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

She went on vexedly: ‘I feel, you know, that I’ve made rather a fool of myself!’

‘In what way?’

‘Interfering in other people’s business.’

Gerard shrugged his shoulders.

‘That is a matter of opinion.’

‘You mean whether one should interfere or not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you?’

The Frenchman looked amused.

‘You mean, is it my habit to concern myself with other people’s affairs? I will say to you frankly: No.’

‘Then you think I’m wrong to have tried butting in?’

‘No, no, you misunderstand me.’ Gerard spoke quickly and energetically. ‘It is, I think, a moot question. Should one, if one sees a wrong being done, attempt to put it right? One’s interference may do good—but it may do incalculable harm! It is impossible to lay down any ruling on the subject. Some people have a genius for interference—they do it well! Some people do it clumsily and had therefore better leave it alone! Then there is, too, the question of age. Young people have the courage of their ideals and convictions—their values are more theoretical than practical. They have not experienced, as yet, that fact contradicts theory! If you have a belief in yourself and in the rightness of what you are doing, you can often accomplish things that are well worth while! (Incidentally, you often do a good deal of harm!) On the other hand, the middle-aged person has experience—he has found that harm as well as, and perhaps more often than, good comes of trying to interfere and so—very wisely, he refrains! So the result is even—the earnest young do both harm and good—the prudent middle-aged do neither!’

‘All that isn’t very helpful,’ objected Sarah.

‘Can one person ever be helpful to another? It is your problem, not mine.’

‘You mean you are not going to do anything about the Boyntons?’

‘No. For me, there would be no chance of success.’

‘Then there isn’t for me, either?’

‘For you, there might be.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you have special qualifications. The appeal of your youth and sex.’

‘Sex? Oh, I see.’

‘One comes always back to sex, does one not? You have failed with the girl. It does not follow that you would fail with her brother. What you have just told me (what the girl Carol told you) shows very clearly the one menace to Mrs Boynton’s autocracy. The eldest son, Lennox, defied her in the force of his young manhood. He played truant from home, went to local dances. The desire of a man for a mate was stronger than the hypnotic spell. But the old woman was quite aware of the power of sex. (She will have seen something of it in her career.) She dealt with it very cleverly—brought a pretty but penniless girl into the house—encouraged a marriage. And so acquired yet another slave.’

Sarah shook her head.

‘I don’t think young Mrs Boynton is a slave.’

Gerard agreed.