Nothing But the Truth

And Bob “flew” with a recklessness that satisfied even her. When it was over she turned to him with an odd look.

“I’ve got another condition.”

“What is it?”

“That you ask Miss Gerald to dance!”

“But – ” he began, disconcerted as well as surprised.

“That’s the condition.”

“She would only refuse.” Gloomily.

“Do you agree?” There was something almost wistful in the temperamental eyes of little pal at that moment.

“I – can’t.” Desperately.

“Very well. Take back the – ”

“All right. I will,” Bob half-groaned.

As he walked over toward Gwendoline Gerald, he saw the temperamental little thing moving toward the stairway. Half-way up, she stopped and looked back over the banister. Perhaps she wanted to see if Bob was fulfilling his part of the contract.

CHAPTER XIX – BOB FORGETS HIMSELF

“Miss Gerald,” said Bob as formally as if he were quoting from one of those deportment books, “may I have the pleasure of this dance?”

Her reply was at variance with what “How to Behave in the Best Society” taught young ladies to say. “Why do you ask?” said Gwendoline Gerald quietly.

“Got to,” said Bob.

“Why have you got to?”

“I promised I would.”

“Who made you promise?”

Bob told.

“Do you have to do what she tells you?”

“In this instance.”

“Of course you know what my reply will be?”

“I told her you would refuse.”

“You would hardly expect me to dance with you after all I know about you, would you?” There was still that deadly quietness in her tones.

“All you think you know about me,” Bob had the courage to correct her. “Of course not.”

“Some one has taken one of my rings,” observed Miss Gerald even more quietly.

“I haven’t got it,” exclaimed Bob. “Honest!” Wasn’t he glad he had got rid of it?

The violet eyes studied Bob as if he were something strange and inanimate – an odd kind of a pebble or a shell. “You are sure?” said Miss Gwendoline.

“Positive,” answered Bob in his most confident tones. He remembered now that during his dance with the jolly little pal he had observed the monocle-man talking with Miss Gerald. Perhaps he had told her he had seen the ring in Bob’s fingers when the latter had gone to the window. The monocle-man might have been spying all the while, on the other side. There might have been two Peeping Toms interested in Bob’s actions in the billiard room.

“Are you so positive you would be willing to submit to be searched?”

“I am that positive,” Bob answered. And then went on more eagerly: “Maybe you haven’t really lost it after all.” He could say that and still tell the truth. “Why, it may be in your room now. You may find it on your table or your dresser when you go upstairs to retire.”

Miss Gerald looked at him. “You seem to be rather certain?” she said tentatively.

“I am,” said Bob. “I’d almost swear – ” He stopped suddenly. It wouldn’t do to be too certain.

“Don’t you find your own words rather strange?” the girl asked.

“Everything’s funny about me, nowadays,” said Bob.

“Did you enjoy renewing your acquaintance with Miss – ?” She called Gee-gee by that other, more conventional name.

“I did not. I dislike her profoundly.”

“Are you sure?” The violet eyes were almost meditative. “Now I should have thought – ” She paused. Bob read the thought, however. A man like him was on a plane with Gee-gee; indeed, much lower. Miss Gerald would be finding in Gee-gee Bob’s affinity next.

“You haven’t refused me out-and-out, yet,” he suggested. “To dance, I mean.”

“You would rather, of course, I did refuse you?”

“Of course,” Bob stammered. The mere thought of dancing with her once again as of yore gave him a sensation of exquisite pain. But naturally she would never dream of dancing with one she considered a – ?

“Well, you may have the pleasure,” she said mockingly.

Bob could not credit his hearing. She would permit him to touch her. Incredible! A great awe fell over him. He could not believe.

“I said you might have the pleasure,” she repeated, accenting in the least the last word.

Bob caught that accent. Ah, she knew then, what exquisite pain it would be for him to dance with her! She was purposely punishing him; she wished to make him suffer. She would drive a gimlet in his heart and turn it around. Bob somehow got his arm about his divinity and found himself floating around the room, experiencing that dual sensation of being in heaven and in the other place at one and the same time.

It was a weird and wonderful dance. Through it all he kept looking down at her hair, though its brightness seemed to dazzle him. Miss Dolly had confided to Bob that he “guided divinely,” but he didn’t guide divinely now; he was too bewildered. Once he bumped his divinity into some one and this did not improve his mental condition. But she bore with him with deadly patience; she was bound to punish him thoroughly, it seemed.

Then that dual sensation in Bob’s breast began gradually to partake more of heaven than of the other place, and he yielded to the pure and unadulterated joy of the divinity’s propinquity. He forgot there was a big black blot on his escutcheon, or character. He ceased to remember he was a renegade and criminal. The nearness of the proud golden head set his heart singing until tempestuously and temerariously he flung three words at her, telepathically, from the throbbing depths of his soul.

The dance ending abruptly “brought him to.” He looked around rather dazed; then struggling to awake, gazed at her. Her face still wore that expression of deadly calm and pride. Bob didn’t understand. She was no statue, he would have sworn, yet now she looked one – for him. And a moment before she had seemed radiantly, gloriously alive – no Galatea before the awakening! It was as if she had felt all the vibrating joy of the dance. But that, of course, could not have been. Bob felt like rubbing his eyes when he regarded her. He did not understand unless —

She wished once more to “rub it in,” to make him realize again more poignantly all that he had lost. She let him have a fuller glimpse of heaven just to hurl him from it. She liked to see him go plunging down into the dark voids of despair. He yielded entirely to that descending feeling now; he couldn’t help it.