“Tell me about Sonia,” Barbara persisted. “And I’ll tell you why I want to know.”
“There’s not much I can tell you about Sonia,” Frank said sullenly. “I don’t know the words you’d understand. She’s almost a nymphomaniac.”
Barbara sat on the bed and quaintly considered his words. The implication disturbed and frightened her. She shrank in horror before a vision of Bob and Sonia which arose before her. Then she thrust her jaw out angrily. If this was true, then it was all the more important to rescue Bob from her. She turned quickly to Frank.
“I want you to take me to Sonia,” she said firmly. “At once.”
“What’s on your mind, dear?” Frank regarded her anxiously. He had heard of women going goofy after the shock of first intercourse.
“Has Ethel told you anything about Bob, the boy I was engaged to for so many years?”
“She told me about some farmer sweetheart, but she swore to me that the affair was all off,” Frank said vehemently. “I made her give me her word that it was out,” he went on plaintively, “for I never intend to interfere with the course of true love.”
“You’re sweet,” Barbara said impulsively. “And you haven’t interfered. You saved it from ruin. I can’t explain,” she went on swiftly, “but having known you has made Bob a hundred times more necessary to me than ever before.”
“I still don’t see where Sonia comes in,” Frank complained.
“Bob followed me here to make up,” Barbara explained. “He arrived Sunday night and telephoned to the Brinkleys. I was out with you and... and he must have been hurt. So he went out and... and got tangled up with Sonia. He... he stayed all night with her.”
“Good God!” Frank sat upright. “Your Bob is a fool,” he said softly. “You’re worth a thousand Sonias.”
“I want... a chance to prove that to Bob, and he’s going to take Sonia to a masked ball to-night. At some Manor.”
“I know,” Frank interjected with quickened interest. “The ball at Brierly Manor. It’s an annual affair. I’m going. So are you and Ethel.”
“I thought if I went to Sonia and explained everything... she might understand,” Barbara said desperately. “Then I... I can go masked too. And if she’ll... if she’ll let me have a chance to win Bob back... to... to show him that I... that I can give him as much as she...”
Barbara’s voice broke.
“Oh! It sounds like a crazy idea,” she cried desperately. “But I have to do something.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Frank contradicted her. “It’s a magnificent plot. Worthy of a correspondence course scenario writer.”
“You’re laughing at me,” Barbara accused in a small voice.
“I never felt less like laughing in my life,” Frank assured her. “I adopted the light tone to keep from bursting into tears. You shall have your chance to vamp your sweetheart... and if the oaf doesn’t crash through I’ll take great personal satisfaction in wringing his neck,” he finished venomously.
“Then you think... Sonia will help me?”
“Not a doubt in the world,” Frank told her cheerfully. “Put it to her straight, and she’ll play along with you. She’s probably getting tired of him already anyway,” he added darkly. “One night is usually her limit.”
“Can I go to see her now?” Barbara asked quickly. “Will you take me?”
“Why not?” Frank moved to the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Picture of a young man practicing self-immolation,” he muttered.
“I could almost love you.” Barbara threw her arms about his neck and pressed her cheek to his.
“Here!” Frank pushed her away determinedly. “You’ll arouse something more than brotherly interest in my bosom if you don’t get some clothes on before embracing me,” he warned gruffly. “Get yourself clad and we’ll seek out the seductive Sonia in her lair.”
Chapter Eighteen
It was late afternoon as Barbara and Frank drove to Sonia’s cottage. Frank seemed very intent on secret thoughts of his own, and Barbara was glad to sit quietly beside him and let the wind blow through her hair.
She felt strengthened and gladdened by the brief intimacy she and Frank had known together. It seemed to her that she marched toward an inevitable and rightful conclusion from out the chaos of Mardi Gras.
Her soul was at peace and her mind at rest. A complacent lassitude seemed to grip her body. Indecision and doubt had been swept away by understanding. From out of the mad turmoil her true self emerged, tranquil and triumphant.
She did not fear the outcome of her impending interview with Sonia. Nor did she shrink from it. In her secret heart she pitied Sonia. Exactly as she pitied Frank. It seemed to her that she was much wiser than they. To-night she would find that which they sought vainly. This was more than a hope; more than a belief; she made of it an actuality which she hugged to her bosom.
As she did not doubt Sonia’s willingness to help her, so she did not doubt her power to draw Bob to her by offering him herself and her new-found passion.
She must not falter nor question. To-night would bring a completion such as she had never dreamed of knowing. She felt strong and ruthless. The strength of aroused passion vied with the dream-love she had carried in her heart for many years, and was augmented by the sharp necessity to rescue Bob from the insidious allure of Sonia.
No. She could not fail. She would not think of failure. She would look forward eagerly to a triumphant fulfillment of the sweeping changes which Mardi Gras had wrought in the texture of her life.
“Here we are. And it looks as though Sonia had company.” Frank’s voice aroused her from her abstraction. She sat up tensely as the car slowed to a stop outside Sonia’s cottage. There were four other cars parked about in the driveway and street.
Frank whistled shrilly as he considered them. His eyes were bleak. “I’m afraid we’re interrupting something,” he said tonelessly. “I’d forgotten that Sonia invited me to attend one of her things this afternoon.”
“What do you mean? A party?”
“Hmmm.” Frank looked at her gravely. “Sort of,” he said slowly. “Use your imagination to its fullest extent... then multiply by infinity. That will give you a vague idea of one of Sonia’s things.”
“Well, I’m going to interrupt this one,” Barbara said decidedly. A flush arose in her cheeks as she opened the door.
“No!” Frank’s voice was hoarse. Barbara looked at him and surprised a peculiar expression of horror on his face. Yet, it wasn’t horror. Something more than that. Horrified gladness. A strangely terrorized joy.
“I will too,” Barbara said defiantly. “I’ll only keep her for a minute.”
“You’ll stay in this car,” Frank said heavily. “Those who enter are forever damned. An appropriate slogan over the door would be Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here. I’ll go in and send Sonia out. You wait in the car.”
Their glances interlocked. Frank was breathing stertorously. His face was haggard and strained. In his eyes was something which struck a queer chill to Barbara’s heart. It was impossible to doubt his sincerity.
“All right,” she said, relaxing. “If you really think I shouldn’t.”
“I know you shouldn’t,” he told her gravely. “You wait right here and put your proposition up to Sonia. I only hope she’s not too far gone.” The last words were muttered to himself as he slipped from behind the wheel and walked to the front door.
Barbara followed him with her eyes. Her imagination drove ahead furiously as the door opened and closed behind him silently. She shivered for no apparent reason. There was something dreadful about the silence which enwrapped the cottage.