Giles laughed. “What a hopeless task! What did you say?”
“Well, I meant it really to be on her side, because Kenneth was being such an ass, and I said I couldn't see what he was making such a song and dance about when he knew perfectly well that Violet was always getting off with rich men. I honestly didn't mean it cattily, but I quite see it may have sounded like that. All the same, Kenneth must know that she used to pick up men who could trot her round and give her a good time, because she's never made any secret of the fact. However, he wouldn't look at it in a reasonable light at all, and it went on and on till I got so fed-up I could have screamed. And then Roger came in, and it was quite obvious he'd been at a pub all the time, because he was just nicely.”
“Where did he get the money?” inquired Giles.
“Took it out of my bag. He said so. Anyway, he was in a ghastly state.”
Giles was frowning. “Really blind?”
“No, not in the least. That wouldn't have mattered, because we could have put him to bed. I don't think he can get decently tight: he's pickled by this time. He was just himself, only much more so, and he said the most outrageous things. He started on poor old Murgatroyd, and kept on asking her if she remembered the milkman which is apparently the skeleton in her cupboard, but before my time. She was fearfully upset, but nothing would stop Roger telling us the whole story, because, though Kenneth might have thrown him out, he was Blooming about Violet, and wouldn't pay any attention. So Violet took a hand, and was excessively sweet and charming to Roger, and' I'm damned if he didn't say it was no use her making up to him, because he was too experienced to be caught, and didn't admire her type anyway. I will say this for Violet: she took it very well; but even she looked pretty peeved when Roger told Kenneth he could cut him out with her if he wanted to, but didn't.”
“What a party!” Giles exclaimed. “How long did this go on?”
“Oh, till Rudolph turned up after dinner. Roger started on him then. He wanted to know why he had such wavy hair, and said he didn't like it; and when he heard he was engaged to me he asked me what on earth I could possibly see in him. That sort of thing. Rudolph realised he was a trifle screwed, of course, and pretended not to listen. The last I saw of them, Roger was still going on about my being batty to marry Rudolph, and Rudolph was holding forth about not having murdered Arnold, and Kenneth was snapping at everybody in turn. So I cleared out, and came to talk to you. This is very good coffee.”
“I'm glad. When is Roger going to leave the studio?”
“As soon as he can. I must say, I'm thankful to you and Gordon Truelove for letting him have some cash. I don't mind him as much as Kenneth does, but I couldn't stand much more of him. He's going to take a service-flat.”
“A service-flat! Why the devil can't he go and stay in Eaton Place?”
“He says it isn't his style. Kenneth had a friendly spasm when he heard that, but it turned out he meant he couldn't stand having a lot of servants about. He said it would fidget him. So Violet - who badly wants Eaton Place - backed him up, and said she knew of a very good block. I gather she means to take him by the hand and lead him to a flat.”
“Is Violet behaving with real nobility of character, or is she actually trying to catch Roger?”
“I don't know. I shouldn't think she can be trying to catch him, because she needn't have got engaged to Kenneth in the first place if she was set on marrying a rich man.”
“Rich men aren't always so keen on marriage, Tony.”
“No, I daresay they aren't. But I think myself that she's making up to Roger in the hope of getting him to give Kenneth a large allowance. Not that Kenneth would accept it, because he wouldn't.”
“Kenneth seems to be taking this pretty badly,” Giles said. “Yet I shouldn't have said that he cared much about money.”
“He doesn't, but of course he is rather hard-up at the moment, and after thinking you're next door to being a millionaire, it must be fairly sickening to find you're just as poor as you always were.” She got up, and fastened his leash to Bill's collar. “I'd better go, I suppose. Do you know, Giles, I'm almost beginning to wish Arnold hadn't been murdered?”
“Tony, you're atrocious!”
“Well, it did look good at first, you must admit. Only now we all seem to be in a mess over it, and everything's rather wearing. I'm glad we've got you. You're about the only dependable thing we have got.”
“Thank you, Tony,” he said, smiling a little.
“And I'm glad we've definitely buried the hatchet. I like you, Giles.”
“Think again,” he said.
She frowned. “Why? Don't you believe me?”
“Oh yes, I believe you,” he replied. “But I've never thought half a loaf better than no bread, my dear.”
Chapter Seventeen
Upon the following morning, his inebriety having worn off, Roger cheerfully explained his condition as having been due to enforced abstinence for so long. This roused Kenneth to tell him exactly how many bottles of whisky he had consumed since his arrival at the studio, but Roger merely said: “Well, you don't call that anything, do you?” and the conversation dropped.
Violet came in soon after breakfast, a circumstance which induced Kenneth, still in a bitter mood, to ask her savagely whether she ever did any work at all. He himself was in his overall, scowling at the half-finished canvas on the easel. Violet refused to take offence at his tone, and replied that she had already sent off a couple of fashion drawings by post, and thought that she was entitled to a holiday.
“I see,” said Kenneth. “Devoting it to me, of course.”
“No, dear, I'm not,” replied Violet calmly. “You are far too disagreeable, let me tell you. I'm going to try and fix your half-brother up in a place of his own.”
“Sweet of you, my pet. I hope he'll appreciate all this pure altruism.”
Violet stood for a moment, her lips slightly compressed. The she walked across the room to Kenneth's side, and laid her hand on his arm. “Kenneth dear, will you try and be reasonable?” she begged. “We must get Roger away from here. He's making you impossible to live with. You know quite well he'll never move unless he's made to, and if neither you nor Tony will do anything about it, it's up to me. I think you might be a little grateful, I must say.”
“You're doing it for what you can get out of him,” said Kenneth.
She was silent for a moment. Then she said: “Well, what if I am? Why shouldn't he do something for us? I don't want to be poor, if you do.”
He looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Gold-digging, eh? Do you care for anything else, my girl? Do you?”
She stiffened. “I'm not going to be spoken to like that, Kenneth. I'll go.”
There was a pause. Kenneth had turned back to his work, for the first time indifferent to her anger. She moved towards the door, but looked back before she opened it. Her voice changed. She said gently: “If you want to break off our engagement, please tell me! Do you, Kenneth?”
He did not answer for a moment, but swung round and stood looking at her under scowling brows. “I don't know,” he said at last.
She remained quite still, fixing her great eyes on his. He put down his palette suddenly, and strode across the floor to her side, and pulled her roughly into his arms. “No. No, I don't. Damn you, you've no heart, but I'm just going to paint you like that, against the door, with the light falling just so.”
She returned his embrace, and took his face between her slender hands. “Try not to mistrust me, darling. It hurts.”
“Leave Roger alone, then,” he replied.
“Yes, dear, as soon as I've got him out of this place I will,” she promised. “You can't really suppose that he's of any interest to me!”