“Jesus Christ! Alive?”
“It was a terrible thing, Mr. Lockwood. Still alive, and I couldn’t reach high enough to get him off the wall. I run to get a ladder, but by the time I found one in the cellar and got back to him, he was just lying there across the top of the wall. The poor little fellow, about twelve or fourteen years of age.”
“Where was the other boy? Ran, I suppose.”
“He ran before I could stop him. I yelled to him, but he kept going, and I didn’t try to stop him.”
“No, of course not. Then I suppose you telephoned for a doctor?”
“And the state police. One of the spikes went through near his heart, and the other broke his spine. He didn’t have to suffer long, thanks be to God, poor lad. I guess they were after chestnuts.”
“I doubt it. I haven’t got any chestnut trees. Where is the boy now?”
“The statics had him taken to the undertaker’s, in town.”
“Town meaning here? Swedish Haven?”
“Yes sir. It shouldn’t take them long to find out who he is.”
“No, the other boy will certainly tell what happened. They must be farm boys.”
“Yes sir. The lad that was killed, he was wearing a pair of overhauls, and them felt boots. Do you want me to keep you informed if I hear anything else? I guess the state police will come and see you.”
“Oh,” said George Lockwood. “Well, I won’t be here, Deegan. I have to leave right away for Philadelphia. You tell your office that I’ll be in touch with them in the morning, and if there’s any legal matter to attend to, have the state police call Mr. Arthur McHenry, at McHenry & Chapin’s. You know where their office is.”
“Yes sir. If you want to give me your address in Philadelphia.”
“Well, I’m not sure where I’ll be. I’ll telephone your office in the morning. I’m sorry this had to happen, Deegan. Very harrowing experience for you.”
“Yes sir. I’m getting another man from the agency to stay here tonight. I couldn’t last out the night thinking of that poor lad.”
“Go home and try to think about something else.”
“That’s what I’m gunna try to do. Goodnight, Mr. Lockwood.”
“Goodnight,” said George Lockwood. He hurried upstairs and put on his shoes and jacket and packed a small bag. He went downstairs and through the kitchen. “No dinner. I’ve been called to Philadelphia on urgent business.”
“You won’t get a train now,” said Margaret.
“I’m driving.” He closed the door, started the little Packard, and was on his way. At Reading he drove to the Outer Station and after mentioning the names of two local directors of the line, gave the car keys to the stationmaster and boarded the next train for New York.
In a week’s time the fuss would die down and he would not have been mixed up in it.
“I was just about to call the operator and tell her I didn’t want to be disturbed,” said Geraldine Lockwood.
“Who on earth would disturb you?” said George Lockwood.
She raised her eyebrows. “That’s a thought. Who would? I always leave word that I don’t want to be disturbed, but now that I think of it, there’s no one that would call me at three o’clock in the morning, or five o’clock in the morning. You think of things like that.”
“I can understand why you’d leave word that you didn’t want to take any calls before, say, ten o’clock. But just leaving word that you didn’t want to be disturbed—no.”
“Every night since I’ve been staying here, I’ve called the operator, just before I turned out my light, and told her I didn’t want to be disturbed. They’re very nice, these operators.”
“Yes, the whole staff are very nice. I told you you’d like this place. I’ve been staying at the Carstairs ever since it opened, twenty-five years ago. I like it because it’s big enough so they don’t have to overcharge you, but at the same time small enough so that you know the people and they know you.”
“My family always stayed at the Waldorf or the Knickerbocker.”
“You and Howard always stayed at the Murray Hill.”
“Nearly always. Sometimes the Waldorf. It seems so strange when I come to New York not to be staying at the Waldorf. I never became quite so attached to the Murray Hill. That was Howard and his family.”
“It’s a pretty good hotel, but lately they’ve been letting it run down. I hear it’s going to pieces. Well, so is Howard Buckmaster, for that matter.”
“Let’s not talk about Howard. I’d much rather talk about what sudden impulse brought you to New York. If you’re ready to tell me.”
“I’ve already told you. The sudden impulse was to tell you that the house is all finished—and not over the telephone.”
“Well, that’s sweet, but I don’t believe it. You do unexpected things, but you’re not sentimental.”
“I’m not?”
“I don’t think so, George. You can be romantic, but not sentimental.”
“What do you consider the difference?”
“Well—I can’t just say offhand.”
“Well, give me an example of the sentimental and an example of the romantic.”
“I’m trying to think. A romantic man can be very romantic and ‘ still never lose his head. Thinking every minute. But a sentimental man is entirely swayed by his emotions. A man can be deliberately romantic, but I don’t think he can be deliberately sentimental. You did a lot of romantic things. I guess we both did.”
“Do you consider yourself sentimental?”
“No, perhaps not. But more so than you are. Howard was sentimental, but not a bit romantic. I think romantic people are probably more intelligent.”
“Uh—I think intelligent people aren’t likely to be sentimental,” he said.
“That’s better. I guess because you’re so intelligent you couldn’t possibly be sentimental, but you can be romantic.”
“Well, then let’s say that my coming to New York instead of telephoning was romantic, and not sentimental,” he said.
“All right. I agree.”
“Have you missed me?”
“The last few days, very much. All last week and the week before I went to bed exhausted. I told you that.”
“Yes.”
“It’s true. I love shopping for myself. Clothes and things like that. But furnishing a house—I’ve done all the bedrooms and our dressing-rooms, and the halls. And on the ground floor, the diningroom and the little sitting-room. And the hall. But the big room on the ground floor, you’re going to have to help me.”
“No, I want you to do everything but my study,” he said.
“I don’t feel right about it. That’s where we’ll entertain and that room should have more of you.”
“You’ll be the hostess.”
“But you’ll be the host, and for instance I saw a large Chinese vase. It’s five feet high and comes on a teakwood base. Perfectly beautiful, and horribly expensive.”
“How horribly expensive?”
“Five thousand.”
“That’s not too expensive for some Chinese pieces.”
“But for a country house, and you’re going to see it every day. It’s blue, a deep blue but not sombre. Bright. And the design is carried out in a very yellowy gold and some black. It’s an exquisite thing.”
“Get it. You obviously love it. And the southeast corner of that room needs something like that.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have it there. I’d have it on the right, just as you come in from the hall.”
“Then you’d want something on the left.”
“Oh, dear. That’s just the trouble.”
“What?”
“I have a confession to make.”