"Oh, no, please!" The exclamation burst out quite involuntarily. I met Florimond's eye of mild inquiry and finished lamely: "I-I was just going upstairs. I promised Philippe to go and see him. I-don't bother Monsieur Raoul, please?"
"Upstairs? And not to come down again, is that it?" The kind eyes surveyed me. "And is that also why you came down so late and then hid among the flowers?”
"I don't-what d'you mean?"
His gaze fixed itself on the violets. He didn't answer. My hand moved in spite of me to cup the flowers, a curiously defensive gesture and quite futile. I said: "How did you know?" and touched the violets with a finger-tip. "These?"
He shook his head. "My dear," he said gently, "haven't you learnt yet that every breath the Valmys take is news in the valley?"
I said bitterly: "I'm learning." I looked away from him. A fish was nosing at the azalea-petal, butting it gently from underneath. I watched it absorbedly. The dance-music seemed to come from a great way off. Here among the flowers was a little walled garden of silence broken only by the liquid arpeggios of the dripping mosses.
At length he spoke. "You're very young."
"Twenty-three." My voice tried hard not to sound defensive.
"Mademoiselle"-he seemed to be choosing his words-"if you ever thought of leaving Valmy, where would you go?"
I stared at him through a moment of whirling silence. Here, too. It was true. It hadn't been imagination to see those dragon's-teeth of scandal springing up in Albertine's malicious wake. Madame de Valmy or (something caught at my breathing) Monsieur himself had said something, hinted something about dismissing me. And Florimond the kind had sought me out to talk to me about it. Everybody, it seemed, was making my connection with Raoul their business.
I don't quite know what I was thinking about it myself. I couldn't see beyond the fact that I loved him; that he had kissed me; that he was here tonight. I wanted to see him; dreaded seeing him. About Raoul's feelings and purpose-his "intentions"-I didn't think at all. He was here, and I loved him. That was all.
I pulled myself together to hear Florimond saying, kindly: "Have you friends in France, or are you on your own over here, mademoiselle?”
I said in a tight little voice: "I don't know anyone in France, no. But I am not on my own, monsieur."
“What do you mean?"
"Monsieur Florimond, you are being very kind, and don't think I don't appreciate it. But let's be frank, now that we've gone so far. You are concerned about me because I was seen kissing Raoul de Valmy, and I'm to be dismissed. Is that it?”
"Not quite."
I said, surprised: "Then what?"
He said gently: "Because you are also in love with Raoul de Valmy, child." I said, rather breathlessly: "So-what?"
"What I said. You are too young. You have nobody here to run to. You are too much alone."
"No. I told you. I'm not alone."
He looked a query.
I said very evenly: "Is it so very impossible that I should be able to run-as you put it-to Raoul?"
There was a pause. The words seemed to repeat themselves into the silence. The clasp of my bag was hurting my fingers when I gripped it. I looked at him. "Yes, monsieur. We are being frank, you and I. Is it so very impossible that Raoul should-care for me?" "My dear-" said Florimond, and stopped. "Yes, monsieur?"
He took a deep breath. "You and Raoul?… No, mademoiselle. No and no and no."
I said, after a little pause: "Just how well do you know him, monsieur?"
"Raoul? Well enough. Not intimately, perhaps, but-" he stopped again and one large hand tugged at his collar. He didn't meet my eyes. He said: "Hell!" unexpectedly and explosively, and began to grind out his cigarette in the earth of the azalea-tub.
I was too angry to let him off. "Then since you don't know him so very well, perhaps you'll explain what you meant."
He looked at me then. "My dear, I can't. I should never have said it. I've already done the unforgivable. I mustn't go farther."
"Monsieur de Valmy being your host?" He almost jumped. "You're a little too quick for me, my dear. Yes, that and other reasons."
I was still angry. I said: "Since we're talking in riddles, monsieur, what makes you think that all tigers breed true."
"Mademoiselle-"
"All right," I said, "we'll leave it. You've warned me. You've eased your conscience and it was very kind of you to bother. Shall we just wait and see?"
He breathed a great, gusty sigh. "I was wrong," he said. "You're not as young as I thought." He was groping for another cigarette, grinning amiably at me. "Well, I've said my piece-unwarranted cheek, and you've been very nice about it. And don't forget, when you do do that running, you've got at least one other person in France to run to."
My anger died. "Monsieur Florimond-"
"There," he said, "and now we'll drop the subject. What about that flirtation we were in the middle of? Do you remember just where we'd got to? Or would you rather have a quick game of chess?"
I gave a shaken little laugh. "It would certainly be quick. Compared with me, Philippe's a master. You'd mop me up in three minutes."
"A pity. There's nothing like chess and tobacco, judiciously mixed, for taking the mind off the advice of a doddering old fool who ought to know better." A large hand patted mine paternally, and was withdrawn. "Forgive me, child. I couldn't help it, could I, if the advice came too late?"
I smiled at him. "Monsieur Florimond, even if this isn't the right moment in our flirtation to say so, you are a darling. But yes… much too late."
Raoul's voice said, above me: "So here you are! Carlo, what the devil d'you mean by hiding her away in this corner. Damn it, I've been watching the doors for a couple of hours I I'd no idea she was finding you and the goldfish such fascinating company. What was the sombre discussion, mon vieux? What's much too late?"
"You, for one thing," said Florimond, calmly. "Now take Miss Martin away and dance with her and try and atone for leaving her to the goldfish."
Raoul grinned. "I'll do that. Linda, come here."
Florimond's eyes followed me, still with the pucker of trouble about them. Then I forgot them as the music took us.
His voice said at my ear: "It's been an age. Had you been there long?"
"Not really."
"Why were you so late?"
"I was scared to come down."
"Scared? My God, why? Oh, of course, Héloïse."
"She saw us; you know that."
"Yes." He laughed. "D'you mind?"
"Of course."
"You'll have to learn not to."
My heart was beating anyhow up in my throat. "What d'you mean?"
But he only laughed again without replying and swept me round with the music in a quick turn. A pillar swirled past, a group of men, a wheel-chair…
Léon de Valmy.
He was watching us, of course. A shadow at the centre of the kaleidoscope; a spider at the knot of the bright web… the stupid fancies rose from nowhere in a stinging cloud. I shook my head a little, angrily, as if that would dispel them. Damn the man, I wasn't afraid of him… was I?
As, momentarily, the dance took me round to face him again, I looked straight at him and gave him a brilliant smile.
He was taken aback: there was no doubt about that. I saw the black brows lift sharply, then his mouth twitched and he smiled back.
The other dancers came between us and cut him off from view. I was left with the sharp impression that my employer's smile had been one of quite genuine amusement, but that it was amusement at some joke I couldn't see. It was an impression that was quite particularly unpleasant.
"Raoul," I said suddenly, urgently.
"Yes?"
"Oh-nothing."
"Just Raoul?"
"Yes."
He slanted a look down at me and smiled. “Soit,” was all he said, but I had the odd feeling that he understood.