Partners (23 page)

Then she appeared just behind him and, stooping, whispered in his ear.

"Would you like to come up on the stage with me and get the play from that angle, as if you were a part of it?"

There was condescension in her tone, as if she were offering him a very great favor, and Reuben's independence instantly recoiled from it.

"No, thank you," he said decidedly. Here she was at it again, trying to get him into that play. He closed his lips firmly with an impersonal smile. "I think I can get the effect from here better."

With a haughty shrug, Anise sailed away and disappeared from the room. And just a few minutes later the curtain rose, disclosing Anise sitting in her boudoir before her mirror in a very lovely but very scanty array.

Reuben looked startled. What was the idea? And why had she asked him to come up on the platform with her? Had she some wild idea of forcing him into a scene like this? Or had she only thought to put him behind the scenes where she could talk with him between acts? Well, let it go at that. He had the definite feeling that she meant to trap him somehow. The more he watched her, the more he felt that she was not to be trusted.

But while he was trying to think it all out, the girl at her dressing table arose and began to pirouette about the stage, lifting delicate bare arms with sinuous enchantment, bringing her hands almost together with a rhythmic motion--like candy pulling, the watcher thought amusedly, or as if she bore a skein of yarn on her extended wrists. Then more steps on dainty feet, a whirl about as if she were a thistledown. Ah! She was a dancer now, moving in exquisite harmony with low music that seemed to grow from some invisible distance, not far away. The dancing grew wilder and wilder, and suddenly from behind the scenes the young actor who had sat beside her at dinner moved in from the side, resplendent in costume of crimson velvet, most brief in its proportions. He seemed to blend into her movements, taking her in his arms, until the two were like one figure. And Reuben could scarcely restrain the merriment that suddenly danced into his eyes. Had Anise actually expected him to take this part when she first asked him to be in the play with her? Had she envisioned him beside her doing this?

Well, perhaps this was merely an opening scene to introduce this actor man, and the real play would be in the next act.

But the play went on, through hectic days of the lives of two professional dancers, with more or less questionable situations and impassioned love scenes. Reuben was filled with amusement. Could it be possible that this girl had thought she could force him to play a role like that? Oh, probably not; probably the young actor had put his own touches on the scenes and changed the lines to please himself. Surely she would not think that he could have lent himself to such a part. Well, what difference did it make? It just wasn't his world, and what could he expect? This was a place where he didn't belong. All his birth and traditions, and breeding and experience went against it.

As the play worked its way on to its sordid end, Reuben grew bored. He wished he could get away. But of course he couldn't, not until this play was over, and perhaps not then right away. Having come, he must be courteous.

He stole a furtive glance at the time and sighed involuntarily, wishing he were back in the shore cottage playing Chinese checkers with Noel and Gillian. Only they would both be asleep by this time, and he wished he were also. All these alien thoughts and scenes wearied him inexpressibly.

When the play was over at last and everybody was milling about and saying how gorgeous and glorious and heavenly and perfectly divine it had been, Reuben worked his way to find his hostess, intending to make excuse and get away that night. He shrank inexpressibly from spending another day in this company.

When he found her at last, she received him rather eagerly as if this was what she had been waiting for all her life.

"Oh," she said prettily, "I'm so glad you've come! I'm worn to death! Come, let's go and take a walk and get rested. I'll show you the walk by the sea. You haven't been down there yet, and it's marvelous! There's a cushiony seat down there, and we can see the moonlight on the sea. The breeze is something wonderful down there."

This seemed about the easiest thing to do, so Reuben courteously assented, and they slipped away from the throng and out into the coolness of the night.

"I suppose it's very selfish of me to take you away from the dancing," said Anise affectedly. "They're all going to dance now. But I'm really worn out. I've danced so much this evening, you know. And perhaps when we come back, we can have a dance or two before they break up. They don't usually stop much before dawn when we are out here. Do you mind me taking you away?"

"Oh, no," said Reuben with almost a sigh of relief. "I'm not a dancer, you know, and it's much pleasanter out here in the wonderful night."

"Yes, I like it," said Anise with that weary drawl she affected. "I think you'll love it down here. It's the darlingest spot, so hidden from everything else. It's only very specials I bring down here. I haven't told many how to find it. It's quite secluded, and I just felt I must get away from the crowd and have a real quiet time. I knew you would be the very one to help me at that sort of thing."

Reuben looked at her curiously. This was a new role for her to play.

She was leading him down through the garden, out beyond it through a young grove. The way led among the trees and over gnarled roots here and there, and once or twice she almost stumbled and then reaching for his arm snuggled up to him. She handed him a small flashlight like a little pencil, and so walking, leaning against him, they went through the darkness, Anise's lissome body pressed close to his side.

Reuben didn't like the situation at all. He had no desire to have her forced almost into his arms. When he found a girl to love, he wanted to win her fairly. He was getting more and more sure that he couldn't love this one. And yet she seemed rather sweet now, with the moonlight through occasional breaks in the foliage shimmering on her ash-blond hair and on the pearly whiteness of her face turned up so close to his shoulder.

"This seems a hard walk for you to take in those little gold sandals," he remarked. "They weren't built for this kind of hiking."

"Oh well, it isn't much farther," she said, suddenly slipping a little and clasping her other hand about his arm, forcing him to put out his other arm to keep her from falling.

Willingly she yielded herself to his assistance, and he was relieved, as he turned the tiny flashlight ahead, to see the seat she had spoken of, luxurious with deep cushions, nestled in a bower of greenness. He led her over and seated her comfortably among the cushions, taking the trouble to put a couple of them behind her and make it seem restful to her.

"Oh, thank you!" she said, putting her head back and closing her eyes for an instant, just where a ray of moonlight touched the cushions and made a picture of her. "You are so helpful, and you know just how to make one comfortable. But now, sit down here beside me and tell me honestly just what you thought of the play. I know you will be honest whatever you say, and I really want to know the truth."

Reuben stood looking down at her. He didn't want to sit down beside her. In the first place there wasn't room at either side of her to sit in comfort. Even now as he stood before her, he could smell the perfume of her hair, and it was alluring. It stirred his senses. He resented it. He did not want to take her in his arms.

So he continued to stand and look down at her.

"Why, I thought it was very well done, didn't you? I can't say I cared much for the play. There didn't seem to be much plot to it, or any point to the outcome, but I suppose it was as good as a play like that is expected to be, wasn't it? You certainly did your part without a flaw so far as I could see. But of course, I'm not much of a judge of such things. I don't have time to go to plays and never cared much for them anyway."

The girl sat still, staring out of the darkness straight at him, frozen in a kind of angry disappointment.

"Oh!" she said petulantly. "Why do you stand there? Why don't you sit down close beside me? Don't you see I'm tired and need comfort, not just contemptuous criticism? Sit down here and kiss me! Can't you see I'm in love with you? Take me in your arms and kiss me."

Reuben stood there in a shock of horror! She must be drunk of course, or she would not so far forget herself as to talk this way. She must have had a stiff drink just after the play. He had caught a whiff of it on her breath as they came along through the darkness. But what was he to do with her? He stood there for an instant looking down at her in perplexity, and then she suddenly burst into tears. That in her experience had been the ultimate card to play. It always brought her what she wanted.

But suddenly Reuben's heart grew steely hard, and his nice voice was cold as he answered.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but, you see, I'm not in love with you! And it takes love to make a kiss of any value."

"Oh, if you would just sit down and put your arms around me and let me kiss you, I would show you that you do love me!" She reached out white arms and tried to draw him down, but Reuben drew back away from her.

"Love," he said, "is not made up of touching lips. It comes from the heart. You don't know what you are saying. You have been drinking too much. The best thing we can do is to forget all this. Shall I help you to the house, or would you like me to call your maid for you?"

And then before the angry girl could answer, they heard footsteps coming down the path, and voices:

"I'm sure Anise went down this way," Reuben heard a girl's voice say, and then the unmistakable voice of the actor: "Yes, I'm sure she did!" A flashlight blazed in on them, Reuben standing back, aloof, and Anise huddled on the cushions.

"Oh! Here you are," said the soothing voice of the actor. "I've been looking everywhere for you. They want us to dance again together. Come on, or the whole company will be down here after you."

"We were just coming in," said Reuben calmly. "I'm afraid Miss Glinden is not feeling very well."

"Nonsense!" said Anise sharply. "I'm quite all right, darling. Yes, of course I'll dance. I just came down to get a bit of rest for a minute before we went up to the ballroom. You were wonderful, Crispin, all through the play. You were just adorable. Come on, let's get back!" And she took hold of the young actor's hand and led the way through the darkness. They were out of sight almost instantly, their voices dying away in the distance.

And then Reuben discovered that the colorless little individual whom Crispin the actor had left on his hands was the same girl who had sat beside him at the table. He would pilot her back to the house and he couldn't quite remember where he had left off in the uninteresting table conversation they had tried to carry on. But she all too evidently was preparing to sit down among the cushions and expecting him to do the same.

So he plunged immediately into a discussion of the surroundings.

"Isn't this the most marvelous place?" he said. "By the way, have you seen this view of the ocean just beyond here? Come out this way." He guided her lightly over the path and out to the point of land where they could look over the moonlit sea.

The girl was charmed with the view and would gladly have lingered, sitting down on rustic benches that were placed to get the loveliest views. They stood for a moment looking off to the pathway of moonlight, and Reuben said rather sadly:

"It is hard to realize that off there a few thousand miles bombs are falling, men are killing one another, and terror reigns."

The girl shivered.

"Oh, don't!" she cried. "That horrid war! We've got an Englishwoman in our apartment house, and every time we meet her she is telling such terrible tales of how her home was destroyed, and she and her children haven't any idea whether they'll ever see any of their family again. I'm just fed up with it. Don't let's stand here any longer. You just spoiled this wonderful view for me. Let's get back to the house where there's music and dancing and we won't have to think about gruesome things. I don't see why we have to be bothered with their troubles over across the ocean. It's their war, not ours."

He looked at her wonderingly.

"No," he said sadly, "it isn't ours
yet
."

"Mercy!" said the girl. "You aren't one of those tiresome people who are always harping on the possibility of war over here, are you? Because if you are, I positively won't listen! You give me the jitters."

"Sorry," said Reuben. "Come, if you want to get back to the dancing, this is the shortest way; and I think you'll find it the easiest, by the beach, because it is lighter here, and I don't happen to have a flashlight. Miss Glinden has taken hers with her."

So they hurried along the beach, the girl avoiding looking out to the water, puffing along quite out of breath.

"Why, yes," she admitted. "It's a lot more cheery in the house at this time of night, don't you think? And I do hate that war. I don't see why they allow war in the world. Don't you think it ought to be stopped?"

"Undoubtedly," said Reuben with a twinkle in his eyes, "but how would you go about it?"

"Why, it ought to be against the law!" said the girl firmly.

"Yes?" said Reuben.

He drew a breath of relief when he took her into the house and landed her in the ballroom with some intimate friends of hers. Then before he could be seen by Anise, or assigned to any other function, he made his way hastily up the stairs to the room he had been given. His idea was to pack his things and slide out the back way, if there was such a thing in this elegant mansion, and drive back into his own environment.

But he found it wasn't as simple as that. The functionary who had assumed the right of unpacking for him and laying out his evening clothes had made way with his two suitcases, and search for them as he might he couldn't find hide nor hair of them. There probably was some proper place to park such things as luggage during the stay of a guest, but it was all a mystery to him. He searched in the closet and under the bed; he even walked down the hall and peered around for a possible trunk room but saw no sign of his luggage. So finally he resorted to the bell, which he discovered in a remote position, and was rewarded by the appearance of the man, who in due time produced the desired suitcases.