第43章 VIII(4)

His own view of lying was the same as that she had expressed. Also, he had no squeamishness about saying what was in no sense true, if the falsehood were necessary to his purposes. Yet her statement of her code, moral though he thought it and eminently sensible as well, lowered her once more in his estimation. He was eager to find reason or plausible excuse for believing her morally other and less than she seemed to be.

Immediately the prospects of his ultimate projects--whatever they might prove to be--took on a more hopeful air. "And I'd advise you to have Tetlow keep away from you. We don't want him nosing round."

"No, indeed," said she. "He is a nice man, but tiresome. And if I encouraged him ever so little, he'd be sentimental. The most tiresome thing in the world to a girl is a man who talks that sort of thing when she doesn't want to hear it--from him."

He laughed. "Meaning me?" he suggested.

She nodded, much pleased. "Perhaps," she replied.

"Don't worry about that," mocked he.

"I shan't till I have to," she assured him. "And I don't think I'll have to."

On the Monday morning following, Tetlow came in to see Norman as soon as he arrived. "I want a two weeks' leave," he said. "I'm going to Bermuda or down there somewhere."

"Why, what's the matter?" cried Norman. "You do look ill, old man."

"I saw her last night," replied the chief clerk, dropping an effort at concealing his dejection. "She --she turned me down."

"Really? You?" Norman's tone of sympathetic surprise would not have deceived half attentive ears.

But Tetlow was securely absorbed. "Why, Billy, she can't hope to make as good a match."

"That's what I told her--when I saw the game was going against me. But it was no use."

Norman trifled nervously with the papers before him. Presently he said, "Is it some one else?"

Tetlow shook his head.

"How do you know?"

"Because she said so," replied the head clerk.

"Oh--if she said so, that settles it," said Norman with raillery.

"She's given up work--thank God," pursued Tetlow.

"She's getting more beautiful all the time--Norman, if you had seen her last night, you'd understand why I'm stark mad about her."

Norman's eyes were down. His hands, the muscles of his jaw were clinched.

"But, I mustn't think of that," Tetlow went on.

"As I was about to say, if she were to stay on in the offices some one--some attractive man like you, only with the heart of a scoundrel----"

Norman laughed cynically.

"Yes, a scoundrel!" reiterated the fat head-clerk.

"Some scoundrel would tempt her beyond her power to resist. Money and clothes and luxury will do anything.

We all get to be harlots here in New York. Some of us know it, and some don't. But we all look it and act it. And she'd go the way of the rest--with or without marriage. It's just as well she didn't marry me. I know what'd have become of her."

Norman nodded.

Tetlow gave a weary sigh. "Anyhow, she's safe at home with her father. He's found a backer for his experiments."

"That's good," said Norman.

"You can spare me for ten days," Tetlow went on. "I'd be of no use if I stayed."

There was a depth of misery in his kind gray eyes that moved Norman to get up and lay a friendly hand on his shoulder. "It's the best thing, old man. She wasn't for you."

Tetlow dropped into a chair and sobbed. "It has killed me," he groaned. "I don't mean I'll commit suicide or die. I mean I'm dead inside--dead."

"Oh, come, Billy--where's your good sense?"

"I know what I'm talking about," said he.

"Norman, God help the man who meets the woman he really wants--God help him if she doesn't want him. You don't understand. You'll never have the experience.

Any woman you wanted would be sure to want you."

Norman, his hand still on Tetlow's shoulder, was staring ahead with a terrible expression upon his strong features.

"If she could see the inside of me--the part that's the real me--I think she would love me--or learn to love me. But she can only see the outside--this homely face and body of mine. It's horrible, Fred--to have a mind and a heart fit for love and for being loved, and an outside that repels it. And how many of us poor devils of that sort there are--men and women both!"

Norman was at the window now, his back to the room, to his friend. After a while Tetlow rose and made a feeble effort to straighten himself. "Is it all right about the vacation?" he asked.

"Certainly," said Norman, without turning.

"Thank you, Fred. You're a good friend."

"I'll see you before you go," said Norman, still facing the window. "You'll come back all right."

Tetlow did not answer. When Norman turned he was alone.