i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (100 books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

ago; the elder one. Rex. And the other two seem to have gone all to pieces lately, since they lost their- girl."

"Lost their girl?"

Swinburn noticed that although Prince's face didn't alter he pressed the cigarette he was holding to his mouth quite flat between his finger and thumb.

"Yes, she went home to look after her mother. It was either that or the workhouse.... I had to put it to her quite plainly.

The mother couldn't be left alone, with just neighbours pop ping in, she needs constant attention. I told her her mother couldn't last long, and it she went into the work house it would be to die. So she left the Tolmaches and went home. "

Staring at Swinburn with an expressionless face, Rodney thought. God, I thought he meant she was deadi But Kate, back in the fifteen streets! All day, every day, living practically in that kitchen, cut off from the Tolmaches and all they stood for. For a moment he experienced the pain that the wrench must have been to her. Sarah might linger on tor months . years even with care and attention. And Kate getting older, living alone. For he knew the Tolmaches had spoiled her for ever for the fifteen streets and the companionship that community had to offer. Mentally shed be alone, and he could do nothing. Gone even was the chance of seeing her on this leave; he couldn't go to the fifteen streets, she would only be disconcerted, knowing that it would upset her mother.

He's not giving much away, said Swinburn to himself, but he didn't squash that cigarette for nothing.

"Well," he remarked, getting up, "I must be on the move again. I just called in to see it I could do anything for Mrs. Prince." His eyes flicked away and he turned towards the door;

and Rodney thought. Good Lord, him too.

Rodney felt a sudden pity for Swinbum, for it seemed such a frightful waste for anyone to lavish affection on Stella; it was like falling in love with the statue of de Milo.

"I'll tell her you called," he said.

"I'll be seeing you again; I'll look in at the surgery at the beginning of the week."

"You'll see me tonight," said Swinburn, continuing towards the front-door, "I'm coming to dinner.... See you later, then, goodbye."

Rodney returned upstairs. So there was a dinner tonight: Barrington; Tollyer, her publisher; that modern poet chap, with his hair on his shoulders; and Swinbum. For two pins he'd make a dash and get a train home. Then there'd be the question: Where was Stella? and "It's just as I expected' looks from Frank. There was nothing for it but to stick it out.

He found his room struck cold, after the warmth of his bath and the room downstairs. The fire was alight, but as yet giving off no heat.

So he took a change of underwear and a suit out of the wardrobe and went into the room across the landing.

Stella's room . her own, of which he had no part, the

^

room she had made for herself after their Enal break. Funny, he thought, I haven't been in this room half a dozen times in three years.

As he dressed he looked around; it expressed her perfectly, everything ice-blue and gold, all except the old walnut bureau that stood in the deep shadow of the recess. The sight of that simple piece of furniture brought back to his mind the day they had bought it . that had been one of their happy days, when Stella had given way to the excitement and thrill of furnishing a house. The bureau was one of the few pieces left of those they had had chosen together; all the others had been gradually replaced. He thought of the young man who had sold the bureau to them; he had sensed their excitement and added' to it by betting them they would never find the secret drawer.

Rodney had soon found the button which would release the spring, but he had kept the knowledge to himself, leaving to Stella the pleasure of discovery.

Looking down on the bureau now he felt a sudden sadness. Gone for ever was the wonder of life that had seemed to be opening for him when they had bought it. Gently pulling open the right-hand side drawer, he felt in the roof for the button. Pressing it, he watched the narrow top of the desk slowly rise, exposing two sets of two drawers, divided by a miniature cupboard, and he felt again the romance of the workmanship and ingenuity. He opened one of the tiny drawers and pressed another button. The door of the cupboard swung open, revealing an exquisitely panelled recess in satinwood. He could almost hear Stella's squeal of delight on that bygone day . such a faraway day, for now she apparently used the desk only as a receptacle for broken pieces of jewellery. Inside the cupboard was a square box, filling most of the space. He took it out and idly examined it. The lid was in a beautiful mosaic pattern of mother-of-pearl. Just as idly he lifted the lid; then stood staring down at the collection of tubes within.

Two were full, but the majority empty and tightly rolled up. After reading the writing on one of the tubes, which was in both French and English, he stood staring fixedly at the box for some time. Then he opened the cylindrical box

which was partly covered by the tubes.

Slowly the blood drained from his face. Like one in a trance, he closed the secret drawer and, taking the mother- of-pearl box, he returned to his room.

His discovery had given him the biggest shock of his life. and, for the moment, he was