‘Have you looked outside?’ Julia said to Evelyn upstairs.
‘How d’you mean, outside?’
‘Why at all those millions down below,’ she said, and led them past where Angela was sitting by the curtains. ‘Look at that, darlings,’ she said almost tearfully, for what had exhilarated her not so long ago was forbidding now. She frowned.
Max came back to be with them, unseeing. Now that he had heard Amabel and that he knew she was in her bath undressed, it seemed to him that when they had been together she had warmed him every side. When he opened his eyes close beside her in the flat she had blotted out the light, only where her eye would be he could see dazzle, all the rest of her mountain face had been that dark acreage against him. He had lain in the shadow of it under softly beaten wings of her breathing, and his thoughts, hatching up out of sleep, had bundled back into the other darkness of her plumes. So being entirely delivered over he had lain still, he remembered, because he had been told by that dazzle her eyelids were not down so that she lay still awake.
He wanted her.
So this stranger on his mission went into rooms at a venture, tried windows and found them locked, and then went out again until he came to one room where two maids leant out of an open casement towards their knight standing on his friend’s shoulder from the station floor ten foot beneath. His bowler hat lay next his friend’s feet and in a cross neatly on the crown of it lay his pair of gloves.
Through this open window noise of all those outside smote him in one vast confused hum like numbers of aeroplanes flying by and against which these two maids’ shrill female voices, screeching to make themselves appreciated by their white-collared boy, were like urgent wheels that had not been oiled. Interfering again he came forward and he said, ‘Save us, young fellow. Don’t you go and fall down or you might be hurt.’
‘It’s her eyes enfold me and uphold me,’ was his gallant answer.
‘Did you hear that?’ she screeched, and her friend leaned further out and said:
‘Which one, which eyes?’
‘Now don’t make me choose,’ he said, reaching up with one arm, his other hand sucking to the wall. ‘Hold me,’ he said, ‘hold me.’ One of them stretched her dainty dirty fingers down and he caught her wrist. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘where would you be if I jumped off his shoulder?’ These two screamed now like rats smelling food when they have been starved in empty milk-churns. ‘Listen,’ this stranger interrupted, ‘that’s murder,’ leaning out himself. ‘What’s murder?’ was his answer, and the other said he could not stand Ed’s weight much longer. They redoubled their shrieks, they were famished and had not been so charmed for ages.
‘She’d fall slap on her ‘ead and break ‘er neck,’ he said pondering, when the one who was being held broke off her shrieks to say, well it was her neck, wasn’t it?
‘I’ll jump off and then I’ll knock his block off for him,’ he murmured and scrambled out, hung at arm’s length, while Ed said, mind my gloves and hat, dropped lightly for his age, and began ploughing his way through. He had forgotten them at once.
To push through this crowd was like trying to get through bamboo or artichokes grown thick together or thousands of tailors’ dummies stored warm on a warehouse floor.
‘What targets,’ one by him remarked, ‘what targets for a bomb.’
Max leaned his forehead against a shut window tormented by his dreams of Amabel, daydreams brought on by her voice, by her being so near, by her choosing to be undressed behind that door and because she used another voice when she wore no clothes, she mocked.
He was in that state when she no longer haunted him all day, but it came back at night and when, if thinking about her while she was not there did not make him as desperate as he had once been when first he knew her he still had that same feeling come over him at times and all the more, very often, when they had just met again.
Five months ago, when his love had been first conceived, he had been maddened by his thoughts of her when she was away, they had boiled all over him and then when she came back they would simmer down again to his happiness. But now he was cooling off he still had returns of that old feeling made worse because he resented her still having that command.
She still swayed him like water moves a trailing weed, and froth and some little dirt collects round, and sometimes when he first heard her voice again and when as now she used that private tone, then it was as if his tide had turned and helpless he was turned back, delivered up to move to her tune and trail back the way he had come helpless, delivered over, benighted.
And as does, in moonlight in cold deep-shadowed other day, push him out of his burrow and kick the old buck to death so when they saw him down, these girls and Amabel, coming out as she now did, all set upon him he was so absurd.
‘Look round, darling,’ Amabel said as cruel as could be, ‘I’m here, not floating around outside.’ Angel, he said to himself, angel and knew how fatuous it was and could not help himself. When he did turn round to say how do you do, like Robin Adams he could not bring himself to look at her and this made him seem ashamed.
‘Hamlet,’ said Julia, and then all three girls laughed.
‘Well, my darlings, and what shall we do?’ she went on and laughed twice, for Max had turned his back again, he looked so like any boy at school, ‘here we are, three lovely girls all mewed up and can’t get out. What d’you say?’
Amabel smiled at his back as though she was taken up with thinking all of him over. She held a bone paper knife against her cheek, along her nose now and then across her forehead. She thought these three bits prettiest in her face.
Angela said how lovely her dressing gown and bent down to stroke it and Amabel murmured Embassy Richard had given it her. So all three of them laughed again, and Amabel said, ‘I’m so bored, darling.’ They were in league against him and watched his back like cats over offal or as if they thought his heart might fall out at their feet feebly smiling and stuck all over with darts or safety pins.
Miss Crevy asked where Alex had got to and Julia said, why didn’t she know he was up to his old tricks with Toddy, how he adored her, for as soon as Amabel looked another way he would always be after her maid.
‘Is she so very pretty then?’
Julia laughed and explained she was ever so old and besides hadn’t Angela seen her in here already and Amabel sat on, quite still and quiet, looking at his back.
‘Lot of people down there,’ he said at last.
Julia thought she would take him in hand. ‘Max, why don’t you turn round and entertain us?’ she said and smiled at Amabel who smiled back. ‘You do look such a silly standing there as if they’d made you dunce or put you in Coventry or something.’
But this shot went too near home. Amabel said again and this time more kindly, ‘I’m so bored, darling,’ for she did not care to let them go too far with him.
He turned round and again could not bring himself to raise his eyes. He said:
‘There’s nothing for it,’ and at that he saw her feet which were bare in sandals and looked fantastic on that cheap carpet. Her toes were pink and quite perfect for him, so much so they had no character at all and he thought they were unreal. The nails glittered.
‘Are you going to go out like that?’ he said.
‘I might.’
He still looked at her toes and while she watched his face she began to move them one after another. He quickly dared one look at her face to see what she was driving at and what he saw, remembered beauty, turned his heart to stone so tight that he smiled into her jewelled eyes like any Fido asking for his bone. Now she was back he was delivered up for punishment, only wanting to be slaves again. She looked hard at him. ‘Oh, God,’ he said and turned away again.