I thought I was going to love Val. I thought I DID--but oh, my Lord, I don't! I don't think I CAN care any more. Or else there isn't any such thing as love. How can anybody tell whether there is or not? You get kind of crazy over a man and want to go the limit--or marry him perhaps--or sometimes you just want to make him crazy about you--and then you get over it--and what is there left but hell!" She choked with a sour laugh.
"Ugh! For heaven's sake, Laura, don't make me talk.
Everything's gone to the devil and I've got to think. The best thing you can do is to go down and get rid of Richard for me. I CAN'T see him!"
"Very well," said Laura, and went to the door.
"You're a darling," whispered Cora, kissing her quickly.
"Tell him I'm in a raging headache--make him think I wanted to see him, but you wouldn't let me, because I'm too ill." She laughed. "Give me a little time, old dear: I may decide to take him yet!"
It was Mrs. Madison who informed the waiting Richard that Cora was unable to see him, because she was "lying down"; and the young man, after properly inquiring about Mr. Madison, went blankly forth.
Hedrick was stalking the front yard, mounted at a great height upon a pair of stilts. He joined the departing visitor upon the sidewalk and honoured him with his company, proceeding storkishly beside him.
"Been to see Cora?"
"Yes, Hedrick."
"What'd you want to see her about?" asked the frank youth seriously.
Richard was able to smile. "Nothing in particular, Hedrick."
"You didn't come to tell her about something?"
"Nothing whatever, my dear sir. I wished merely the honour of seeing her and chatting with her upon indifferent subjects.
"Why?"
"Did you see her?"
"No, I'm sorry to----"
"She's home, all right," Hedrick took pleasure in informing him.
"Yes. She was lying down and I told your mother not to disturb her."
"Worn out with too much automobile riding, I expect," Hedrick sniffed. "She goes out about every day with this Corliss in his hired roadster."
They walked on in silence. Not far from Mrs. Lindley's, Hedrick abruptly became vocal in an artificial laugh. Richard was obviously intended to inquire into its cause, but, as he did not, Hedrick, after laughing hollowly for some time, volunteered the explanation:
"I played a pretty good trick on you last night."
"Odd I didn't know it."
"That's why it was good. You'd never guess it in the world."
"No, I believe I shouldn't. You see what makes it so hard, Hedrick, is that I can't even remember seeing you, last night."
"Nobody saw me. Somebody heard me though, all right."
"Who?"
"The nigger that works at your mother's--Joe."
"What about it? Were you teasing Joe?"
"No, it was you I was after."
"Well? Did you get me?"
Hedrick made another somewhat ghastly pretence of mirth.
"Well, I guess I've had about all the fun out of it I'm going to.
Might as well tell you. It was that book of Laura's you thought she sent you."
Richard stopped short; whereupon Hedrick turned clumsily, and began to stalk back in the direction from which they had come.
"That book--I thought she--sent me?" Lindley repeated, stammering.
"She never sent it," called the boy, continuing to walk away.
"She kept it hid, and I found it. I faked her into writing your name on a sheet of paper, and made you think she'd sent the old thing to you. I just did it for a joke on you."
With too retching an effort to simulate another burst of merriment, he caught the stump of his right stilt in a pavement crack, wavered, cut in the air a figure like a geometrical proposition gone mad, and came whacking to earth in magnificent disaster.
Richard took him to Mrs. Lindley for repairs. She kept him until dark: Hedrick was bandaged, led, lemonaded and blandished.
Never in his life had he known such a listener.
