Seen By Candlelight

At first he had lost a lot of weight, for he had eaten little and drank a lot. He suffered from acute insomnia for months, and life had lost all interest. In consequence his work suffered and eventually his mother had persuaded him to take a prolonged holiday, for as he was he was of no use to the company.

When he had first been informed of her affair with Lewis Martin, he had hardly believed it. He could not acknowledge to himself that Karen would actually sleep with another man, particularly a man like Martin who was so much older than herself. Thoughts of them together had nauseated him and angered him. He was still so much in love with Karen, and if she had shown any inclinations towards coming back to him he would have accepted her on any terms.

But when he learned that Lewis Martin had actually spent a night at the apartment, he was forced to admit that all previous stories about them had been true, and their marriage was over, irrevocably. He drank a good deal at this time, drugging his tortured senses, until the pull of his work brought him back to normality.

The divorce, of course, finalized everything. It was the ultimate ending. The writing on the wall had eventually triumphed. Paul had been convinced that no woman would ever invade his emotions again. He became very cynical about life and women, and lived without much thought for the morrow.

And then, six months ago, he had met Ruth Delaney. They met at a cocktail party in New York where he was attending a textile trade fair. She had immediately made a beeline for him, realizing he was the most attractive male she had ever seen or was ever likely to see. His cynical manner had added a rather cruel twist to his lips and he was leaner than he had been before the divorce, and very bitter. She became his shadow, appearing at all the functions he attended, until he was forced to take notice of her. After all, her father was Hiram Delaney, an oil magnate, and his money might help the company if nothing else, Paul’s public relations officer had urged him to be sociable to the Americans, and Paul found it comparatively easy to comply. Ruth was a likeable girl, and her youthful aura was what he needed to brighten his image.

To begin with, Paul had merely used her, taking advantage of her naïveté, but gradually she worked her way into his confidence, and eventually he told her about his broken marriage. Ruth was very sympathetic. She commiserated with him and made him aware of himself as a comparatively young man without much point to his life. Paul was quite aware that Ruth intended that she herself should become the point in his life.

She was devoted to him, and when he returned to London she prevailed upon her parents to visit there too. Consequently, Paul found himself with three guests, at least two of whom expected him to marry Ruth. He was being politely managed, and he allowed himself to drift with the tide. When the tide became a tidal wave and an engagement was quite essential to keep harmony, he decided that as he would never love again he might as well provide himself with a wife and hostess and later, if children came along, the tragedy of his earlier marriage might disappear. So he and Ruth became engaged and her parents, satisfied at last, returned to the States leaving Ruth in Paul’s care.

Today Ruth was wearing a mink coat and a very feminine hat of pink feathers. She looked chic and very expensive, but Paul sighed deeply as she rose to meet him. She had been sitting in the chair used by clients, at the far side of his desk, and she moved towards him in a cloud of exotic French perfume.

“Hello, darling,” she said reproachfully. “You didn’t tell me you were to be out for lunch. I’ve been waiting here for almost an hour.”

Paul allowed her lips to touch his cheek before moving away, removing his overcoat.

“Really,” he said. “I’m sorry, Ruth. I had no alternative, I’m afraid.”

He dropped his coat on to a low couch and then crossing to his desk, he flung himself into the chair behind it, reaching for his cigarette case.

Ruth lifted his overcoat with a knowing smile, and hung it on the stand before resuming her seat opposite him.

“Now,” she murmured, “what on earth was so important that you had to drop everything and go out to lunch? When I asked you yesterday evening you said you would have no time for anything.”

“That was quite true,” replied Paul, drawing on his cigarette. Ruth did not smoke.

“Well, come on,” said Ruth. “Why are you looking so moody and disgruntled? You seem hardly pleased to see me.”

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