Vision House

When Marise thought of that room, and the difference between it and all the others, she felt – not angry, for one couldn't feel angry for small reasons, close to the greatness of the Canyon, – no, not angry, but pained, and – wistful.

She was wistful because she could not help seeing that the things Garth must hastily have ordered for her pleasure were actually suited to her type, her personality, and she had growing pains of the spirit which made her long to climb high and higher, out of herself. Somehow that room seemed to represent herself: soft and vaguely sweet; pretty, perfumed, charming, fantastic and – forgetable. How should Garth have known that she would suddenly become a different self, irradiated by the sublime glory of this place? Why, even she hadn't known it, until she had begun to feel the change! And it had started at sight of the difference between those other, nobly simple rooms, which somehow matched the Canyon, and hers which childishly laughed in its face.

Or – had Garth expected her to change, under the influence, which was like the influence of all the gods, and wanted her to feel the difference as she was feeling it now?

As she asked herself this question a pretty, half-breed Mexican maid flitted out upon the terrace and announced "Ze Earl of Sev'rance."

Marise started. She need not have been surprised. She ought to have known (having heard of Œnone's death) that any day might bring Tony to her. But the truth was that, for the time – quite a long time – she had forgotten all about him.

He didn't belong to the Grand Canyon! But suddenly she felt a desire to see what he would be like, confronting it.

"Show Lord Severance out here," she directed the maid. And then, between the moment when the girl turned her back, and the moment when Tony stepped through an open window-door of the drawing-room, Marise had to realise that she faced a crisis – had to prepare for it.

The red-gold light that always came from the Canyon like flame made Severance seem to have deep mauve rings under his eyes, an appearance which gave him a dissipated look. She began by not thinking him as deadly handsome as she had always thought him in London and sometimes in New York. No, certainly he didn't go well with Canyons and things like that! But, of course, he was tired. He had travelled fast, and a very long way – to meet her. She must remember this in his favour.

He didn't glance through the trees at the dazzling glory. He'd had enough and too much of the old Canyon! He looked straight at Marise. And he walked straight to her, seizing both her hands, which resisted a little, then thought better of it and welcomed him.

"Poor Tony!" she breathed.

"Not 'poor Tony,' now I see you again," he said. "Marise, you're more beautiful than ever. You're the most beautiful thing on this globe. Where can we go, where a lot of huge windows won't be glaring at us like bulging eyes?"

"There's nobody to glare through them," answered Marise. "My —he– isn't at home."

"I know," said Severance. "That's why I hurried to you without stopping even to bathe and change. I wanted a talk with you before thrashing things out with Garth. 'Wanted'? That isn't the word! I thirsted, I burned for it. He's not in the house, but servants are. Marise, I've travelled six thousand miles, hardly resting – just for this moment – and others to follow – better moments. Give me one of the better ones now. I deserve a reward. And I can't take it here on this beastly terrace."

Marise suddenly realised that nothing in the world would move her from the terrace. She was glad of the window-eyes. They were her protectors against – against – the man she had loved.

The words spoke themselves in her head. She heard them. She was surprised at them. Had loved! Didn't she love Tony Severance now? If not, why had she done all that she had done – so many wild, reckless things? It seemed that she was asking the question not of herself, but of the Canyon. The Canyon was like God. In the glittering, flaming, blue-shadowed depths of it was knowledge of Everything.

"I think we must stay here," she said. "There is no other place where we can very well go. Would you – like to sit down on that seat by the wall?"

"What I would like is to kneel at your feet with my arms round your waist and my head on your breast – your dear, divine breast," answered Severance.

"Well – you can't!" she panted. "Tony, be sensible!" She sat down hastily, and Severance dropped beside her on the velvet-cushioned stone seat. He sat very close to the girl, and she edged slightly away.

As she did so, he followed until she was pressed into the corner of the bench. He laid his arm along the back of the seat, and pressed her thinly-covered shoulder.

"Please don't!" she whispered.

Severance laughed out – a bitter laugh. "This is the way you greet me after all I've gone through to get to you – and to get you!" he said. "You know, I am going to get you."

Marise did not answer. She knew nothing of the kind. All she knew was, quite suddenly, that there was no longer any doubt in her mind on one subject. She did not love Tony! She was sorry for him, and sorry for herself, and sorry for everything in the world. But she did not love him. She disliked having him touch her.

"You do know it, don't you?" he insisted.

"No, I don't," she stammered. "There – there's nothing to know."

"Are you acting a part with me?" Severance flung at her. "Or what has come over you, Marise? One would think you in reality the virtuous married woman, keeping the tertium quid at arm's length – "

"Well, I am a married woman. And – and I'm not unvirtuous!" she defied him, through her heart-beats. "Things have changed, Tony – "

"Why – because I've got a million dollars less than you expected me to have?"

The girl sprang to her feet, tingling and trembling. Severance jumped up also, and belted her slim waist with his hot hands. He thought that this was the way to regain her – that by grasping her body he might seize her elusive spirit. It was all that Marise could do not to scream, "Help! Help!" like an early-Victorian heroine. She bit back the cry of primitive womanhood, but to her intense surprise, and even horror, she found herself landing a rousing box on Tony's ear.

"You vixen!" he blurted.

"Cad!" she retorted.

With that, his hands dropped from her waist. His face had been pale with fatigue. Now it was paler with pain. "You don't – mean that, Marise?" he stammered.

And, of course, she didn't. Things had happened in the past which had encouraged him to this. He had thought she loved him. She was to blame as much as he was – more, perhaps – the Canyon would say.

"I'm sorry I boxed your ear, Tony," she apologised. "But – but – if you go on like this, I'm awfully afraid I shall lose my head and box it again."

"I don't understand you," he said, more quietly.

"I don't understand myself," she confessed.

"Then" – and fire from the Canyon lit Severance's Greek eyes – "it's my plan to make you understand. You love me. You daren't go back from it all, after what's passed. I love you, and you belong to me."

"Good afternoon, Severance," said Garth, at the window. "I heard you'd arrived."

CHAPTER XXXV

STRAIGHT TALK

If Garth had appeared two minutes earlier, he need have suffered no uncertainty about Marise. But unfortunately she was not in these days the romantic heroine of a stage play. Characters did not come on or go off at just the right instant to work up her scenes in life. Therefore this unrehearsed effect ended with an anti-climax. Whether Severance were cast for hero or villain remained doubtful: and whether she had acted the noble wife or the weak lover was left vague: or at least, it was vague to the mind of Garth. He had no idea what Marise had done. He was sure only that Severance had done as much as she would let him do. By and by he expected to learn a great deal more: through the process of deduction.

"Good gracious, if I had called out, he would have heard me!" thought Marise; and was thankful that she hadn't. To yell for John Garth to rescue her from Tony Severance! That would have been too inane, too ridiculous. Nevertheless, a picture flashed vividly across her brain: Garth as he had looked that night at Mothereen's house when hearing her shriek he had bounded to her bedside from behind the screen. His collar had been off, his strong throat bare, his hair rumpled. It had occurred to Marise as she peeped from between her lashes that he'd make a fine model for a young Samson, newly sheared by Delilah.

The man's quiet voice and his drawled "Good afternoon, Severance," frightened her a little. She had seen him angry, but never violent. She felt convinced, somehow, that the angrier he was, the more quiet he would be – deadly quiet. Just why she felt that, she couldn't have explained, for she did not know him well – indeed, she knew him hardly at all. Yet she was sure – very sure. And she was sure also that his "good afternoon" didn't express Garth's real emotion at sight of Severance with her on the terrace of Vision House.

"What had I better do?" she wondered. "Go – or stay?"

She decided to stay, and keep peace between the two men if need be. Besides, she must hear what they would say to each other!

Severance had no conventional answer for Garth's "Good afternoon." He stood silent, staring and frowning, fingering his small black moustache.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" asked his host.

Severance had never been able to forget the scene between himself and Garth at the latter's hotel in New York. He was at heart more Greek than British; and the days are long past since Greeks were aggressive fighters. He shrank from any repetition of his experience at the Belmore, and had come to Vision House meaning not to rouse Garth to violent issues. That cool question was too much, however, for his prudence. Anyhow, even Garth wouldn't be brute enough to attack him before Marise!

"I have come to bring Miss Sorel a message from her mother, who wants her at Los Angeles," he said sharply.

"That might do if she were Miss Sorel," returned Garth. "But she isn't."

"She is professionally," said Severance.

"She's ceased to be a professional."

"Temporarily."

"Oh! Your point is that she's the temporary wife of a temporary gentleman, and that as such her time with the T.G. is up. Is that it?"

"Precisely."

"I see. You've come to wind up the arrangement?"

"I have. You must have been expecting me."

"I didn't let my mind dwell on you. How are you going to pay me my million – in banknotes, bonds or a cheque? Because I may as well inform you, I shall refuse to accept a cheque."

"I don't mean to offer you one."

"Very well. Have you got the million on you?"

"I have not! I haven't got it anywhere – that is, all of it. I shall pay you by instalments."

"I can't agree to accept the money like that."

"You'll have to!" exploded Severance. "There's nothing else you can do."

"You think so? We shall see. But it occurs to me that one instalment deserves another. You pay me by instalments: I allow my wife to go to her mother by instalments. Some of her trunks can go first."

"For God's sake don't joke about this thing!" broke out Severance. "It's too coarse – even for you."

"Strikes me that it would be coarser to take it seriously," said Garth. "And there's no need of doing that any more."

"What do you mean?" the other asked sharply.

"As I pointed out before, the 'bargain's' smashed to bits."

"Nothing of the sort!" Severance flung at him. "There wasn't a word spoken about handing you the whole million in a bunch."

"There was something said about handing it over in advance. It wasn't handed over."

"That was Marise's fault, not mine. She rushed on the marriage out of childish pique against me, never stopping to dream of the consequences."

"Which, however, haven't been very disastrous for her," said Garth. "Have they, Marise?"

"No – o," she murmured. "But oh, please, both of you – don't lose your heads!"

"Mine's on my shoulders," returned Garth calmly. "And I see an excrescence of some sort protruding from Severance's. You need have no fear for either of us. Still, if you prefer to wait indoors, we can get on without you for awhile."

"No, I'd rather stop where I am." Marise chose.

"To go back then," said Garth; "the fault, if it was a fault, anyhow wasn't mine. I obeyed the lady's commands and married her without haggling for money down. As there was no 'bargain' to stick to, I stuck to my post, the post of dummy husband, to oblige her, not for any mercenary reason. I shall go on sticking to it, if not to please her, or myself, just because I've got into the habit. I can't break that even for Mrs. Sorel; certainly not for you."

"I'm not talking of myself now," barked Severance. "I'm talking of Marise. She wants to be free. Surely you won't hold her against her will."

"Surely she can speak for herself!" said Garth.

Marise did not speak. Her senses began to whirl. She did not know what was to become of her. She couldn't tell what she wished would become of her! She felt as if a wave had swept over her head. She was drowning.

"No!" snapped Garth, when she remained silent, looking at neither, but gazing anxiously out towards the Canyon. "No, I agreed to play the dummy hand during your absence for the sum of a million dollars. I haven't got the million. But even if I had got it, I should have demanded a second million to clear out. There was nothing specified on that score in New York."

"It was taken for granted, of course!" said Severance. "There was no other meaning possible. We trusted to your honour."

"We?"

"Miss Sorel and I – and her mother."

"That's news to me. Perhaps I shall appreciate it as a compliment when I'm old – ninety or so. I don't now. I simply don't believe it."

"You think we lie?"

"First person singular, please! Marise hasn't spoken."

"Damn you!" broke out Severance, at the end of his tether, and for once reckless of consequences. "You refuse to let her go – you refuse equally to leave her."

"That's so," said Garth, with an exaggerated nasal twang which made Severance want to kill him for his insolence. He started forward, itching to strike; but something he saw in Garth's eyes brought him to a standstill. That confounded tooth episode was always "throwing itself up at him," so to speak! Fortunately, however, he remembered something at that instant – a weapon which he had almost overlooked, though it was within his grasp. He calmed himself with a kind of mental and physical stiffening.

"If you don't intend to carry out your agreement – I insist, your agreement– ! why have you brought that secretary girl, Miss Marks, all the way from New York to El Toyar Hotel?" he hurled at Garth. "When I heard she was there and that you were constantly riding over from your place to see her, I supposed it was done on purpose to give Marise an easy chance to get her divorce. As it is – "

"As it is," Garth cut him short, "the affair is not your business."

"It's Marise's business, if it doesn't mean what I thought."

"Then let her attend to it. She's quite capable of doing that," said Garth. "And now, unless you can produce a million dollars at sight, or still better, two million, don't you think you'd be wise to blow back to your hotel? It'll soon be too dark to walk."

Severance turned furiously to the pale girl. "Marise – can you stand by and see me ordered away like this?"

She looked at him with a strange look which he could not read at all. "This is his house, Tony," she answered, in an odd, dull voice. "Not mine."

"I think you'd best go, for your own sake," said Garth. "But come back, of course, when you've got the money. If we're here then, we'll be glad to see you."

Severance turned without another word, even to Marise, and walked away as he had come, passing through the drawing-room. Garth started to follow, but Marise ran to him and stopped him with a small, ice-cold hand on his arm. "Why are you going after Lord Severance?" she whispered, her lips dry.

"Only to see that he doesn't lose himself somewhere in the house and hide under a table or sofa," Garth explained.

Her hand dropped. She let him go.

There was no fear of anything melodramatic, she saw. Yet she was not relieved. She felt as if she had some black, hollow, worn-out thing in her breast instead of a heart. It was heavy and useless, and hardly beat.

"That horrid girl!" she said half aloud when Garth had gone. "I always knew, really, she would be here. I believe he did give her the jewels, and Mothereen wangled them away from her somehow. He's pretending to follow Tony, and see him out. But he doesn't mean to come back here to me."

As she thought this, Garth came back.

CHAPTER XXXVI

STUMBLING IN THE DARK

After all, Severance had hardly expected a more brilliant result from his bluff. The one real failure was in losing his temper, which, when discussing his plan with Mums, he'd meant to preserve like a jewel of price.

Only the short preliminary round had been played. The game proper was all before him. He'd tested Marise to begin with. She had not been completely satisfying. That is, she hadn't thrown herself into his arms and sighed, "Take me away, darling Tony!" which would have been the ideal thing. But on the other hand, she hadn't very actively repelled him. If Garth had not appeared on the scene like a stage demon, all might have been different. The fellow was a bully, and had cowed the girl. Heaven knew to what means he had resorted in these last weeks to break her high spirit. But of course there was no doubt that she wanted to free herself, and the best service Severance could give his dear lady-love was to take her (ostensibly) against her will.

That brought him back mentally to the plan he had explained to Mary Sorel at Bell Towers – the plan she had approved. He must carry it out at once. And Zélie Marks's presence at the hotel might help, he began dimly to see now.

By the time he had reached El Toyar he saw with more clearness. At the hotel desk he scribbled on one of his visiting cards, "Please grant me a short interview. I come to you from Mrs. John Garth." This card he slipped into an envelope and closed down the flap. Then he addressed it, and requested the clerk, "Kindly have this sent up immediately to Miss Marks."

While he awaited an answer, or the arrival of Zélie, Severance debated whether or no to wire Mary Sorel.

She had suggested his doing so, to prevent any danger of scandal in the working out of the plan. But in his heart Tony had no longer the holy terror of that bogey which had chilled him while Œnone was alive.

Then, the least whisper of gossip connecting him with Miss Sorel, or even Mrs. Garth, might have ruined the prospect of marriage with his cousin: and that would have been, indirectly, as harmful to Marise as himself. Now, however, when there was nothing further to be gained or lost for either of them from Constantine Ionides, Severance need think only of himself and Marise; and he thought of himself first.

His intention was to take Marise away from Garth, who had no right to the girl and was keeping her against her true wish. If necessary, Severance would take her by force, for her own good, because then the thing would be done and over with: there would be no going back. But – anyhow – he would take her!

Mums had urged him to wire, if his first attempt failed, and Garth refused to see reason as presented to him with mild bluff. She wanted to fly to the Grand Canyon and be on the spot – ready for emergencies – to stand by her daughter. But Severance wasn't sure even now, as things had turned out, whether he would be wise in furthering this wish.

It was natural, of course. But just as scandal would have been fatal before, it might be useful in the present situation. If her "Mums" were close at hand, Marise might in the first confusion of her mind seek refuge under the maternal wing, from the man she loved. If she did anything futile like that, it would give Garth time to act: whereas, if Marise had no refuge but her lover – oh, distinctly it would be tempting Providence to telegraph to Mums!

"Well?" said Garth, when Marise stood statuelike in the blue dusk.

"I don't think it is very well," she answered slowly.

"I warned you fairly that I'd not stand out of Severance's way," Garth reminded her, his face so grey and grim in the twilight that the girl remembered how she had thought it looked carved from rock.

"Yet only a few minutes ago you offered to leave me, for a bribe of a second million."

"There can't be a 'second' million till there's been a first."

"The principle is the same."

"There's where you're mistaken. I think now the time has come for you to understand. But I had a sneaking idea that perhaps you did understand, already. You have a sense of humour – a strong one, for a woman."

"Has a sense of humour anything to do with – this affair?"

"Yes. A grim one. But if you don't see it – "

"Sometimes for a minute I've wondered if I did see – something."

"What did you think you saw?"

"I – hardly care to put it into words."

"All right. I'll do it for you. But if I do, you must answer honestly."

"I will – if I answer at all."

"Very well, I'll risk your answering. You wondered pretty often and by flashes if the question of money ever had anything to do with my accepting the damnable and disgusting offer Severance made to me. Was that it?"

"Ye-es. Though what else could it be, when you showed in every way that your love – if it was love – had turned to – to actual hate, before you married me?"

"Oh, not so bad as that!" Garth protested, something like a queer, suppressed laugh, shaking his voice.

"Dislike, then."

"That sounds as if I hadn't treated you decently."

"No, for you have. You've been very decent indeed – except that you've forced me to do lots of things I haven't wanted to do, like living in that suite at the Plaza and – and coming out here, and all that."

"Wasn't it necessary, as you were so anxious to avoid scandal?"

"There might have been other ways."

"I didn't see them. Anyhow, it's done now. It can't be undone. And as things were, I've tried to treat you as you want to be treated, all through. As to the money, I will defend myself there, since it seems that you have seen to the bottom of the well – where truth lies! – only in those short flashes. If Severance had ever tried to hand me a million dollars or any other sum for what I've done, I'd have thrown it in his face, and knocked the face in after it. That's what I meant from the first. So now you know."

"But – if you'd stopped wanting me? Why – why? You said yourself I didn't seem to be a judge of how much it took to kill love."

"Yes, I said that."

"And you said other things. You said a million was always useful to anyone – "

"There I banked again on your sense of humour. Or perhaps a little on your judgment of character."

"I must confess I've tried to judge yours!" Marise exclaimed, almost in spite of herself. "But I can't – I'm always stumbling against things – in the dark."

"Well, there's plenty of 'dark'! I admit that," said Garth. "Many people would say that of me. Perhaps the only one who wouldn't is little Mothereen, and we can't count her, can we? There are all sorts of horrid possibilities in the dark, where a character's concerned. My motive, though not mercenary, might have been revenge punishment!"

"That's often seemed to me the most likely!" cried Marise. "Especially now."

"Especially now? Explain, please."

"Now, when you've brought that girl out here, close to this house. You did bring her, didn't you? You asked me to be honest. Be honest yourself!"

"By my request she came."

"You paid for her to come?"

"Yes, I couldn't let her give up a good job in New York, even for awhile, and travel so far on my business, at her own expense – could I?"

"On your business?"

"Yes. I told you once that Miss Marks was an old friend. We've known each other for years. She used to live at Albuquerque. Cath and Bill, whom you met, are her cousins – or rather, Cath is. Mothereen is fond – "