Barney ate some of his in an uncomfortable silence; then in an endeavour to take her mind off her misfortune, he said: 'I didn't really mean it when I said I thought you were pulling my leg. Do go on and tell me more about the extraordinary things you saw last night. You'd got as far as the appearance of the black imp.'
As though she had received a mild electric shock, Mary stiffened slightly. It had flashed into her mind that the spilling of the wine might not have been an ordinary accident. In defiance of Ratnadatta's warning, she had been giving away the secrets of the Brotherhood. Was it possible that she was being overlooked and some occult force had been set in motion to check her? Thinking about it again she knew that the mishap had been more her fault than Barney's, because it was through her hand that the glass had actually slipped. Momentarily it had seemed as if her fingertips had lost their sense of touch, and next second the wine had cascaded into her lap. Suddenly she felt convinced that the temporary paralysis, although it had come and gone in less time than it takes to draw breath, could have been caused only by supernatural means.
Striving to conceal the fear with which the thought filled her, she stammered: The ... the imp! Yes, I... I. But, of course, I was pulling your leg. There was no imp or priest who used it to perform an abortion. . . .'
Barney shot her a swift, shocked suspicious glance and broke in, 'You never mentioned that.'
'Oh . . . didn't I? Well, it doesn't matter. I was making the whole thing up. I mean about them all wearing masks but having no clothes on, and about an Arch-Priest they called the Great Ram performing miracles.'
'D'you mean that? Honestly?'
'Of course.' She forced a smile. 'I was just seeing how much I could get you to swallow.'
He smiled back. 'I boggled at the miracles, and the black-clad gent producing an imp was a bit too much; but you sold me the general set-up. Anyhow, praise be to God you were only fooling. What did Ratnadatta's game turn out to be after all, though?'
'It was as I thought - Yoga.' Mary quickly tried to recall the little she had heard about Yoga, and went on: 'It really was rather thrilling. One of them, wearing only a loin cloth, lay down on a bed of nails, and another walked on live coals without burning his feet. It can be of practical use, too, if one works at it hard enough. Ratnadatta swears to me that through having learnt to breathe in a certain way he can keep himself warm on the coldest day without wearing an overcoat. It is also the royal road to getting out of one's body; so I mean to take up practising the exercises.'
'Does that mean that you are going to this place again next Saturday?'
Mary still had no intention of doing so; but the temptation to re-arouse Barney's concern for her, even to a more limited extent, led her to reply, 'Yes, why not?�
His reaction was just what she had hoped for. 'And that, I suppose, commits you to having dinner again in a private room with this slimy Babu?�
Recalling all she had told him of Ratnadatta's arguments in support of the ancient worship of Satan as the Lord of this World, she suddenly saw the red light. That did not fit in with the new aspect she had given the Indian as an innocent practitioner of Yoga. To forestall Barney's possibly asking her to explain this obvious contradiction in the story she was now anxious that he should believe, she said:
'I was fooling about that, too. We dined downstairs in the restaurant, and next Saturday he is not even giving me dinner. I'm not to meet him at the Sloane Square Tube until half-past nine.'
'What about his blindfolding you, though? Did he, or was that just another taradiddle to get a rise out of me?'
Mary saw that she was cornered. As she had no idea in what part of London the temple was situated, she could not tell him its locality; on the other hand, to admit that she had been blindfolded was to imply that there really was something sinister about it. In desperation, her nerves still barely under control, she exclaimed:
'Oh, for goodness' sake leave it! You've no right to catechize me about where I go or what I do.'
'Sorry,' said Barney, 'but seeing we're friends, I'm naturally interested.'
For a few minutes they ploughed into the Peach Melba that they had chosen as a pudding. When they had finished, Barney said: 'Come on, let's dance.'
His proposal brought back to her the stained condition of her frock. 'How can I?' she snapped. 'The wine not only went through to my belt, but dripped off it on to the back of my skirt; so both from the rear as well as from the front, I look a shocking sight.'
For a moment Barney considered whether he ought to offer to buy her a new dress. But he decided that as this was only the second time he had taken her out, he did not know her well enough, and she might regard the suggestion as an impertinence. After a moment he said, a shade resentfully:
'I'm terribly sorry about your dress. But really it wasn't my fault. I handed your glass to you and you seemed to be gripping it firmly before I let go of it.'
Again the terrifying image of the imp came into her mind. Renewed fear mingled with resentment caused her to give an angry shrug. 'What's it matter whose fault it was? My dress is ruined anyway; and I'm not going to make an exhibition of myself just to please you.'
Barney also had an Irish temper and at this, as he felt, unjustified attack on him, he said: 'Well, if you don't want to talk, and you won't dance, there's not much point in our remaining here, is there?�
'No,' she agreed. 'And the sooner I can get my dress into soak the better chance there will be of the stains not showing after I've had it dyed a less attractive colour.'
'O.K. Let's go then!' Abruptly he stood up and pulled out the table for her. 'Go and get your coat. I'll settle the bill later.'
She had hardly had time to think before he put her into a taxi. And he did not follow her into it. He gave the driver her address and some silver then, with a casual wave, he wished her an unsmiling 'good night' and stalked off back into the restaurant. They had been on edge with one another for three-quarters of an hour, but when the blow-up came it lasted less than four minutes. On her way home Mary cursed herself whole-heartedly. She had meant to play the siren with Barney that evening, and so convert the interest he had shown in her from the first into a much warmer feeling. But now, for the second time, she had behaved in a manner which could only lead him to believe that, attractive as her looks might make her, she was so stupid, prudish, and naturally ill-tempered that it would be folly to cultivate her further. From the manner in which he had left her, it was clear that he did not mean to ask her out again.
Since she had lost Teddy everything had gone wrong. She had given up her home, and the friends who might have comforted her, to set out on a wild-goose chase; or at least one that fear had forced her to abandon. And now she had thrown away the last human link which could provide her with an interest. She was, and must continue to be for some time to come, as utterly alone in the world as if she had become marooned on a desert island. Unless, far worse, when she least expected it, Ratnadatta appeared on the scene to exact payment from her for having ignored his warning. Her day had started with such promise, yet ended with catastrophe. That night she wept herself to sleep.
CHAPTER VIII A PREY TO LONELINESS
The saying that 'hope springs eternal in the human breast' certainly applies to most healthy people, and there was nothing in the least wrong with Mary, either mentally or physically. In consequence, after a sound sleep, she began to view her situation more cheerfully. The occult manifestations she had witnessed on Saturday night were of a potency sufficient to have struck terror into anyone's mind; so it was hardly to be wondered at that only twenty-four hours later her nerves were still so jumpy that she had accepted an accident as evidence that the Brotherhood was keeping watch on her by supernatural means, and had the power to make her let drop a glass of wine.