CHAPTER XIV
ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS
There are violences to nature in which she is reined up so suddenly thatafter them we are left stupid rather than unhappy. In such a mood ofheld-in turmoil Herrick walked home and waited for to-morrow. Hisappointment with Christina was at twelve, noon, and until noon hestruggled not to think at all. Anything was better than thought; yetnothing would now answer save security--security past, present andfuture--a full understanding of her life, of her trouble, of heractions, of what game she was playing and of what part in it she wasready to give him. By-and-by the wound began to throb, but he merelykept it closed with a firm hand. Till noon to-morrow!
With the morning the papers he had ordered, in a time that seemed longago, came to his door; he found himself opening them, and tracing thedazzling streams of Christina's notices. Their flaming praises left himcold; already they seemed to be written about some one whom he did notknow.
Here, at any rate, was a Christina Hope with whom he could imagineparting. The greatness of her destiny was full upon her; she seemedringed with a cold fire, brilliant as the golden collar of the world andpassible, perhaps, by Cuyler Ten Euycks, but hardly by a young literaryman from the country. Never again, whether she wished or no, could shebe quite the same girl in the gray gown who had sat in a corner of thecoroner's office beside her mother. Hermann Deutch's Miss Christina hadbecome one of the great successes of all time. And Herrick shrank alittle at the loud clang of her fame.
He was going that morning to the Ingham offices at ten o'clock to signhis contract. The day was oppressively warm, with hot glints ofsunshine, and it seemed to Herrick that the bright, feverish streetsswarmed with the rumors of Christina's triumph. He wondered if it hadgot in to that man in jail and acquainted him with the strangedifference in their fates. His contract meant nothing to him; he gotaway as soon as he could. Yet already the atmosphere was changed, thesky was overcast, and as the clocks about Herald Square struck eleven, awarm, dusty wind, even now bearing heavy drops of rain, swept down thestreet. If Herrick took a car he would reach the Hopes a good half hourtoo early, and he had no mind, after walking in the wet, to presenthimself in muddied boots and a wilted collar before Christina. He lookedabout him. He could choose between hotel bars--where actors might betalking of her glory--dry goods shops and a moving-picture show. Perhapsbecause Christina had gratefully mentioned moving-pictures, he chose thelatter. His longing and dread were so concentrated upon twelve o'clockthat he had no consciousness of buying his ticket. Only ofwondering--wondering--
The place was not yet full enough to be oppressive, and Herrick satthere in the welcome dark, with the rhythmic pounding of the musicstunning his nerves. He closed his eyes; and immediately there sprang upbefore his consciousness the eternal, monotonous procession ofquestions--What had she meant last night, by throwing over everythingfor Ten Euyck? Why had she fainted at the sight of Nancy Cornish's hairand what strange bond linked Nancy with Ingham's murder? Why had Nancydisappeared a few hours before the shot; who had said, in Ingham's room,"Ask Nancy Cornish," and to whom had they said it? Why had hervisiting-card broken down Christina's earlier evidence, and was that herscarf which had frightened Christina so, or did it belong to that womanof the shadow? And who was that woman? Why had an uncontrolled andvariable man, such as Denny had described himself, suffered six hours ofthe third degree rather than risk revealing her name? By what authoritydid Christina promise to produce her, that very afternoon, at the officeof the District Attorney? Had she made Christina break with Ingham, asshe had made Denny kill him, by that story of his betrayal of her youth?He felt intuitively that in this woman was the key to the entiresituation. She had created it; she would be found, more than they nowknew, to have controlled it; and she, and perhaps she alone, could solveits manifold involutions. She had arrived before Denny, she had spokenboldly and insolently to Joe of Ingham; she had forced herself in uponhim when he did not want her; she had come openly in a white lacedress--he remembered the lace that hung from the shadow's sleeve--andmade herself as conspicuous as possible--why? And as Herrick askedhimself these questions in the darkness he could almost have believedhimself surrounded by the darkness of that night; the brisk strumming ofthe orchestra was not much like Ingham's piano, but it had the sameexcited hurry of those last few moments; and Herrick's mind called upagain the light, bright surface of the blind and then the shadow of thewoman cast upon it, lithe and tense, with uplifted arm, the fingersstiffening in the air. His eyes sprang open, and there before him, onthe pictured screen, among the moving figures of the play, was the sameshadow, with uplifted arm, the fingers spreading and stiffening in theair. Then in the movement of the scene, the shadow turned clean roundand disclosed Christina's face.