I thought she turned paler.
“Not him,” she said, “her.”
“Meaning you?”
She had turned paler. For the first time, I thought she had stopped acting.
“Yes,” she said, “yes. That’s why I asked you whether you hated me, Car. If you do, you’ve got your revenge to your hand.”
I wanted to be quite sure what she meant, so I said,
“Yes?”
“Yes-yes,” she said. “Do you hate me, Car? Because if you do, you’ve only to go to Uncle John and tell him just what Bobby and I have said to you to-night.”
Of course she knew that I wouldn’t do any such thing. She was playing up, but under all the theatrical stuff there was something that made me feel a bit sorry for her. You can tell when any one is frightened. I thought she was frightened, and I wondered what on earth she’d been up to.
I leaned back against the jamb of the door and tried to keep my temper.
“What have you been up to?” I said.
“Bobby told you.”
“Good Lord, Anna, do you really want me to believe you’ve been forging checks?”
She nodded.
“One check-Car, it sounds worse than it is. Won’t you let me tell you about it? I-I-it’s been dreadful having no one to talk to.”
“Mr. Markham?” I suggested.
“Bobby doesn’t count.”
I thought that was nice for Bobby, who was probably mixing himself up in a shady business because he was fool enough to be fond of her.
“I want to tell you about it. You’ll listen-won’t you? You must, because it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I thought Uncle John was dying, and I knew he’d left me everything, because he told me so himself only the week before, so I didn’t think there was any harm in my writing that check-he’d have given me the money twice over if I’d asked him for it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because he was unconscious, and I couldn’t wait. I had to have the money. And now I don’t know what to do.”
I gave her the best advice I could. She really was frightened.
“There’s only one thing you can do-make a clean breast of it.”
“To Uncle John?”
“Yes.”
She sat there and looked at me for about half a minute. There wasn’t any color in her face. Then she said,
“He’d never forgive me.” She said that slowly; and then, like a flash, “You think that would play your game.”
If she had been a man I should have struck her. Not that it’s any use anyhow-you can’t strike the beastly mind that thinks that sort of thing.
She gave a gasp, leaned forward, and caught me by the arm.
“No-no-I didn’t mean that! Car-I didn’t mean it! Other people are like that, but not you. You’d help me out if you could. You’re trying to help me out, even if you do hate me.”
I wasn’t going to answer that.
“I’m desperate-I don’t know what I’m saying. If he knows, he’ll cut me out of his will-and I don’t know how to be poor-I’ve counted on the money always. If you were any one else, you wouldn’t help me-but you’re Car- you’ll help me, won’t you?”
“You can help yourself-I can’t.”
“No-no-no! He wouldn’t leave me a penny, and if he doesn’t leave it to me, it will all go to charities, for he told me so. You won’t get it anyhow, Car-no, I didn’t mean that-Car, I didn’t-I don’t know what I’m saying.”
She turned from me, caught at the doorpost with both hands, hid her face against her arm, and burst into wild weeping. It was horrible to hear her. She wasn’t pretending, she was really crying. Later on, when I touched her arm, I could feel her sleeve soaking wet with her tears. A woman crying like that makes a man feel a most awful fool, unless he can take her in his arms and comfort her-and that was just about the last thing in the world I wanted to do with Anna.
I sat down and waited, and I didn’t say anything, because there didn’t seem to be anything to say. After a bit she quieted down, and at last she let her arms drop and moved round so that she was facing me again. She put her hands in her lap and leaned her head back against the doorpost. Her face was wet, and her eyes were shut.
“I didn’t mean it,” she said.
“That’s all right.”
“I know you’re not like that.”
While she was crying I’d been thinking a bit.
“Look here, Anna,” I said, “I don’t really know what you’ve been driving at with this fake advertisement business, and getting me down here, but I do know one thing-if you’ve really been up to anything with Uncle John’s check-book, you’ve given Bobby Markham a pretty dangerous hold over you. I don’t know an awful lot about him, but what I do know wouldn’t make me feel I should be safe in putting my reputation and-” I hesitated for a moment, and then I let her have it straight-“my liberty into his hands.”
She looked at me between her wet black lashes and said,
“Wouldn’t it?”
“No, it wouldn’t-not by a long chalk.”
She gave a nod, quite casual and careless.
“Oh, Bobby’s all right. He eats out of my hand.” Then she leaned forward and put her left hand on my knee. “What about you, Car?”
“Me?” I couldn’t make out what she meant.
“Yes, you-you-you. I’ve put myself in Bobby’s power. Haven’t I put myself in yours? Bobby knows about the check. What about you? Don’t you know about it? If Bobby’s got a hold over me, haven’t you got one too?” She stared at me in the strangest way. “What about it, Car?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I said that, but of course it wasn’t really true. It had only just stopped being true though. You know how it is-what you’re thinking runs ahead of what you’re saying. The minute the words were out of my mouth I wished I hadn’t said them, because she laughed in my face.
“How plainly have I got to put it? You know enough to damn me if you choose to go to Uncle John with your knowledge. No, that’s too crude-you wouldn’t do that- would you?”
“Am I to say ‘thank you’ for that?” I was very angry.
“No, you wouldn’t do that-you wouldn’t go to Uncle John. But if you met him, and he asked you, what would you do then? Would you give me away?” Her voice broke sharply in the middle of the last word.
“You mean if he asked me about the check? I haven’t seen him or heard from him for three years. Why should he ask me?”
“I don’t know.” She sounded tired and bewildered. “I-don’t know. I-was-just-supposing. Would you give me away?”
“What’s the good of supposing?”
“Car-would you? I told you myself. It isn’t as if you had found it out. I told you. You couldn’t give away what I’d told you myself. Could you?”
I put my hand on her arm. That was when I felt that the sleeve was wet.
“What makes you think I’ll ever have the chance?”
“Old men have fancies,” she said. Her arm shook. She leaned nearer. “Suppose he sent for you. Suppose he asked you questions. Suppose you saw your chance of outing me and coming back to your old place.” She wrenched her arm out of my hold and threw herself back against the half open door. “Oh, why did I tell you anything? Why was I such an utter, utter fool as to tell you?”
She had been trying me pretty high all along, and my temper got the better of me.
“What sort of damned cad do you take me for?” I got to my feet. “That’s about enough,” I said. “I’m going.”
She jumped up and came to me with the tears running down her face.
“Car-will you promise not to tell? Will you swear you won’t tell him what I told you? I’ll believe you if you promise.”
I was too angry to say anything, and I suppose she thought I was hesitating, for she began to catch her breath and sob.
“I only told you because I trusted you so. You can’t use what I told you because I trusted you.”