The Deaves Affair

"Don't jolly me," muttered Evan. "I can't take it!"

Charley's face softened again for an instant. "C'mon with me," he said. "Mildred Macy in the Spawn of Infamy's at the Nonpareil. Milly is some vamp I hear."

"Couldn't sit through a picture," said Evan. "You go."

Nevertheless when the dishes were washed up the prospect of spending the evening alone in the little room was too ghastly. As Charley got up Evan said sheepishly:

"Believe I will go."

"Bully!" said Charley. "Get your hat."

As they passed her door Evan's ears were long. No sounds came from within, no crack of light showed beneath. He had been hoping against hope that she might be there. Where was she? The picture of a little restaurant rushed before his mind's eye, Corinna and a man on opposite sides of the table, their smiling faces drawing close over the cloth. He suffered as much as if he had actually beheld them. That's the worst of having a vivid imagination.

"Spawn of Infamy" proved to be what Charley termed "High-life for low-lifers" and they were home shortly after nine. As they mounted the first flight Evan perceived a crack of light under Corinna's door and his heart rose. She was home early, she had not had a good time then. But as they rounded the landing he heard her voice inside. She had a visitor – alone in there with her! A horrible spasm of pain contracted his breast. He had much ado to restrain himself from beating with his fists on the door. He followed Charley up-stairs grinding his teeth. He had never suspected that such raging devils lay dormant in his blood.

When they got up-stairs it was quite impossible for Evan to remain there. For a moment or two he walked up and down like something caged; he could not pretend to hide the feelings that were tearing him. Charley glancing at him wonderingly out of the tail of his eye, bustled about talking foolishly.

Finally Evan said thickly: "It's stuffy up here. I'm going down to walk around the Park awhile."

Charley's eyes followed him compassionately. Charley's time to experience this sort of thing had not arrived.

When he started Evan honestly intended to go down in the Park and calm himself with the exercise of walking. But unfortunately he had to pass her door. In spite of himself he stopped there, and despising himself, listened. He heard her say: "I won't sing to-night. I'm not in the humour." Then he heard a man's voice low and urgent, and he saw red. He knocked.

She came promptly and opened the door, opened it wide. She did not quail when she saw his lowering face.

"Good evening," she said with the upward inflection meaning: "What do you want?"

Her tone flatly denied their intimacy of the night before. This aspect of a woman's nature was new to Evan; he was astonished and hotly indignant.

"May I come in?" he asked stiffly.

"Certainly," she said promptly and indifferently, and threw the door open wide.

Evan stepped in, and his eyes flew to find his rival. The latter was sitting between the piano and the window. He was younger than Evan, not much more than a lad in fact, but a resolute, comely lad; one of whom Evan could be jealous.

"Mr. Weir, Mr. Anway," said Corinna impassively.

They nodded, eyeing each other like strange dogs. A factitious calm descended on Evan. He could even smile, but there were ugly lines around his mouth. His voice was harsh.

"Aren't we going to have some music?" he said.

By this he meant to convey to the other man that he was accustomed to be entertained in that room. The point was not lost. The younger man whitened about the lips. The girl gave no sign at all. Even in his anger Evan commended her pluck. She kept her chin up; her eyes were scornful.

"I'll play," she said going towards the piano.

"I like your singing better," said Evan.

"I am not in the humour," she said in a tone that finally disposed of the question.

She played – what she played Evan never knew. It is doubtful if any of them heard a note. Evan sat affecting to listen with a smile like a grimace. The other man kept his eyes down. Whatever Corinna may have been feeling, it did not interfere with the technical excellence of her performance; her fingers danced like fairies over the keys, but to-night there was no magic in the sounds they evoked.

Corinna's part was the easiest because she had something to do and somewhere to look. She went from one piece to another without a word being spoken. Evan went on smiling until his face was cracking; the other never looked up.

Finally the sounds began to get on Evan's nerves. "Don't tire yourself!" he said with bitter politeness.

She stopped, and turning around on the bench waited for him to say something more. Her attitude said plainer than words: "You provoked this situation; very well, it's up to you to save it." This cool defiance in a mere girl, a little one at that, angered Evan past all bearing. He smiled the more, and addressed the other man:

"Fond of music, Mr. Anway?"

"Very," said the other without looking at him.

"What is your favourite piece in Miss Playfair's repertoire – I mean among the songs."

"I have no favourite."

"But don't you think she sings 'Just a Wearyin' for You' and 'Love Unexpressed' with wonderful expression?"

Anway did not answer. Corinna yawned delicately. "You'll have to excuse me," she said. "I have to go to Ridgewood early to-morrow to give lessons."

Anway, better-mannered than Evan – or better-trained, immediately rose. Evan sat tight, smiling mockingly at Corinna. "No, you don't!" the smile said. His conduct was inexcusable of course, but he was beyond caring for that. She had denied him and defied him to his face; let her take the consequences. Anway seeing that Evan wasn't going, sat down again flushing.

"Don't wait for me," said Evan. "I only have to go up-stairs."

Anway bit his lip. He was not deficient in pluck, but he lacked Evan's self-possession. The two or three years' difference in age put him at a cruel disadvantage. Finally he looked at the girl.

"May I stay a little longer, Corinna?" he asked.

The Christian name stabbed Evan. He sneered. "Nice, well-mannered little boy!" his expression said.

"You must both go," said Corinna calmly.

Evan smiled at her again, but she refused to meet his glance. However he stood up now, for he wished to start the other man on his way. Anway picked up his hat and gloves. Then all three stood there avoiding each other's glances. Neither man would be the first to say good-night, nor would Corinna address one before the other. It was a sufficiently absurd situation, but it had all the potentialities of a violent one. Finally Corinna cut the knot by saying:

"Good-night, both of you." She opened the door.

The two young men glared at each other. Anway was the weaker spirit and he had to go first. But he lingered just outside the door to make sure that Evan was coming too.

Evan whispered to Corinna: "I'm coming back."

"Indeed you're not!" she retorted, glancing significantly at the key in the door.

"Then I won't go," said Evan coolly turning back into the room.

Corinna bit her lip. Clearly, Evan offered her a new set of problems in the management of men. Anway sought to enter again, but she stopped him.

"Please go, Leonard," she murmured. "This is too absurd!"

The whispered colloquy was perfectly audible to Evan.