The lantern-light shone on her pale composure.
“Would it be your affair if I had?”
She admired the tragic depth of her own voice. Car would have known that she was admiring it-that was why she hated him-but Bobby could be counted upon to be a fellow-admirer. He broke out into protest;
“For heaven’s sake don’t say such a thing! I’d go crazy! Of course it’s my affair-everything that’s got anything to do with you is my affair.”
She shook her head slightly, and the diamonds swung at her ears.
“It’s not for myself. Will you get it for me?”
Mr. Markham mopped his brow again. The palms of his hands were wet. He was wishing with great intensity that he had always kept on the humdrum side of the law.
“It’s so damned dangerous,” he said in a voice that was really like a groan. Then, as she looked scornfully at him, “I wish ten thousand times I’d never had anything to do with it.”
“Yes,” said Anna “-now that you’ve made your money out of it-I can understand that.”
“I’m clearing out. I’ve told him so-I’ve told him I won’t go on-and he said”-his voice dropped-“he’s getting out of it himself. And a good job too-that’s what I say. It’s dangerous-it’s a lot too dangerous. He said so-he said the police were sitting up and taking notice-he said they were out for blood, and he’d be hanged if he was going to let ’em have his.” The sound of Mr. Markham’s own voice had heartened him a good deal. He smiled a wide smile which showed a golden tooth upon either side, and concluded, “And little Bobby’s just as keen on their not getting him.”
“You’re afraid,” said Anna.
Mr. Markham acknowledged the compliment.
“Any one who wasn’t a fool would be afraid. It’d mean a dashed long sentence. It’s me for the shore before the ship goes down. And you take my advice-”
“I haven’t asked for your advice-I’ve asked for your help. And if you won’t give it-” She paused for a second-“then-then I’ll go to some one who will.”
She pushed back her chair and rose. The shawl fell back and showed her in diaphanous black, neck, shoulders and back all gleaming bare and white.
Mr. Markham leaned across the table.
“What a dashed hurry you’re in! Look here, Anna-what do you want it for? I’ve got to know-he’ll want to know.”
“He’s not to know. If I wanted him to know, I could ask him for it myself. You’ve got to get it for me without his knowing.”
“Why do you want it? I can’t get it like that. But if I could, I wouldn’t-not without knowing what you want it for. It’s too infernally dangerous.”
She was gathering her shawl up slowly with one hand. The little bright flowers seemed to bloom as she moved them.
“It won’t be dangerous at all. It-” She hesitated. “It-might be the very opposite.”
“How do you mean-the very opposite?”
“I mean-you said they’re out for some one’s blood. Well, if they caught some one with the stuff on them-”
She stopped, biting her lip, a dark colour in her cheek, her eyes brilliant and watchful.
Bobby Markham stared at her. He was wishing that he had never come.
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind.”
Fear spurred Mr. Markham.
“I won’t do a dashed thing unless you tell me what you mean-I’m hanged if I will!”
Anna smiled suddenly.
“Would it break your heart if Car Fairfax came to grief?”
Mr. Markham became incapable of words for a moment. Then he repeated those which he had just used:
“What do you mean?”
Anna was still smiling.
“I want the stuff for Car.”
“Why?”
“Will you get it for me if I tell you?”
“I don’t know,” said Mr. Markham. “I can’t get it-I told you I can’t-and if I could-”
“You can get it if you like. Will you get it?”
“Tell me why you want it.”
“I want it for Car Fairfax,” said Anna in a warm, melting voice. “If they’re looking for some one to send to prison, don’t you think that Car would do nicely?”
“But he’s not in the show at all.”
“No,” said Anna-“no. But if he were found with cocaine in his possession, all made up into neat packets for distribution, and if he wouldn’t say how he’d come by it-”
Mr. Bobby Markham swore aloud and ran his hands through what remained of his hair.
“Anna, you’re mad! What are you thinking of? Do you suppose for a moment that he’d hold his tongue? I tell you they’re giving smashing sentences. They’re out to stop the whole thing. It would come out that he got it from you. Do you suppose for a moment that he’d go to prison for you?”
“Oh, no,” said Anna quite gently, “he wouldn’t go to prison for me. He said so.”
“Then what are you driving at? He’d give you away.”
“Oh no,” said Anna again. Her earrings dazzled in the light. “Oh no, Bobby, he wouldn’t give me away, because he wouldn’t know anything about me. He wouldn’t say he’d had the stuff from me, because I shouldn’t have given it to him. I’m not quite a fool, you know.”
“You’re not going to give it to him?”
“No.”
“Then who is?”
“Isobel,” said Anna sweetly.
A silence came down between them. Bobby Markham went on looking at her. At last he said,
“Isobel?”
“I think perhaps he might go to prison for Isobel. It would be interesting to see if he would.”
Bobby Markham leaned back. For the moment he wanted to get farther away from Anna.
“Why have you got your knife into him like this? What’s he done? Why can’t you leave him alone? He hasn’t done you any harm.”
The words were hardly out before he regretted them. He had seen Anna in a fury once, and he had no wish to repeat the experience. The color went suddenly out of her face. Her eyes looked past him-big, black eyes, with something hot behind the blackness.
“Do you want me to answer that?”
He didn’t-not now-not when she looked like that. He wanted to get back to the George and have a whisky and soda. But Anna had not waited for an answer to her question.
“I’ll tell you what he’s done if you like. He has insulted me in the worst way that a man can insult a woman. He wanted to marry me once, and when I wouldn’t have him-” She choked and threw up a hand before her eyes.
“Oh!” she said in a deep, gasping note. “Men can be brutes-brutes-brutes!”
The startled Mr. Markham turned plum-colored with embarrassment.
“Anna-hold on-what do you mean?”
The hand that had covered her eyes was thrown out towards him in a really fine dramatic gesture.
“Don’t ask me-you’re my friend-don’t ask me any more.” She turned away a little and stood drooping, with the shawl falling in a long straight line from her shoulder. “That is why my uncle quarreled with him. I didn’t tell him everything. But I couldn’t-couldn’t go on seeing Car as if nothing had happened. Now Uncle John is beginning to hanker after him again-it’s an old man’s fancy, and I can’t, can’t bear it.” She leaned across the table to him suddenly with outstretched hands. “Bobby, I can’t bear it-I can’t! You must help me! Bobby-don’t you see that I can’t bear it! And if he does go to prison for this, it’s just, because he’s never been punished for what he did to me.”
Mr. Markham felt himself a good deal carried away.
“Look here, Anna-I say, don’t upset yourself like that.” He caught at her hand and held it. “Look here, if I do it-”
“You will? Oh, Bobby!”
“I didn’t say I would-I said if-” He paused and imprinted a fervent kiss upon the hand which lay uppermost in his. It was cold and smooth-it was very cold. He let go of it almost involuntarily. As she drew back, he said, “What do you want to bring the girl into it for? You’ve not got your knife into her, have you?”
“Isobel?” said Anna.
“Yes.”