The Abandoned Room | Page 7

he turned most
carefully. Before the meal was half finished Graham glanced at his
watch.
"We've just time for the eight-thirty," he whispered to Bobby, "if we
pick up a taxi."
Maria had heard. She pouted.
"There is no engagement," she lisped, "as sacred as a dinner, no
entanglement except marriage that cannot be easily broken. Perhaps I
have displeased you, Mr. Graham. Perhaps you fancy I excite
unpleasant comment. It is unjust. I assure you my reputation is above
reproach"--her dark eyes twinkled--"certainly in New York."
"It isn't that," Graham answered. "We must go. It's not to be evaded."
She turned tempestuously.

"Am I to be humiliated so? Carlos! Why did you bring me? Is all the
world to see my companions leave in the midst of a dinner as if I were
plague-touched? Is Bobby not capable of choosing his own company?"
"You are thoroughly justified, Maria," Paredes said in his
expressionless tones. "Bobby, however, has said very little about this
engagement. I did not know, Mr. Graham, that you were the arbiter of
Bobby's actions. In a way I must resent your implication that he is no
longer capable of caring for himself."
Graham accepted the challenge. He leaned across the table, speaking
directly to Bobby, ignoring the others:
"You've not forgotten what I told you. Will you come while there's time?
You must see. I can't remain here any longer."
Bobby, hating warfare in his present mood, sought to temporize:
"It's all right, Hartley. Don't worry. I'll catch a later train."
Maria relaxed.
"Ah! Bobby still chooses for himself."
"I'll have enough rumpus," Bobby muttered, "when I get to the Cedars.
Don't grudge me a little peace here."
Graham arose. His voice was discouraged.
"I'm sorry. I'll hope, Bobby."
Without a word to the others he walked out of the room.
So far, when Bobby tried afterward to recall the details of the evening,
everything was perfectly distinct in his memory. The remainder of the
meal, made uncomfortable by Maria's sullenness and Paredes's sneers,
his attempt to recapture the earlier gayety of the evening by continuing
to drink the wine, his determination to go later to the Cedars in spite of
Graham's doubt--of all these things no particular lacked. He

remembered paying the check, as he usually did when he dined with
Paredes. He recalled studying the time-table and finding that he had
just missed another train.
Maria's spirits rose then. He was persuaded to accompany her and
Paredes to the music hall. In her dressing-room, while she was on the
stage, he played with the boxes of make-up, splashing the mirror with
various colours while Paredes sat silently watching.
The alteration, he was sure, came a little later in the cafe at a table close
to the dancing floor. Maria had insisted that Paredes and he should wait
there while she changed.
"But," he had protested, "I have missed too many trains."
She had demanded his time-table, scanning the columns of close
figures.
"There is one," she had said, "at twelve-fifteen--time for a little
something in the cafe, and who knows? If you are agreeable I might
forgive everything and dance with you once, Bobby, on the public
floor."
So he sat for some time, expectant, with Paredes, watching the
boisterous dancers, listening to the violent music, sipping
absent-mindedly at his glass. He wondered why Paredes had grown so
quiet.
"I mustn't miss that twelve-fifteen," he said, "You know, Carlos, you
weren't quite fair to Hartley. He's a splendid fellow. Roomed with me at
college, played on same team, and all that. Only wanted me to do the
right thing. Must say it was the right thing. I won't miss that
twelve-fifteen."
"Graham," Paredes sneered, "is a wonderful type--Apollo in the flesh
and Billy Sunday in the conscience."
Then, as Bobby started to protest, Maria entered, more dazzling than at

dinner; and the dancers swayed less boisterously, the chatter at the
tables subsided, the orchestra seemed to hesitate as a sort of obeisance.
A man Bobby had never seen before followed her to the table. His
middle-aged figure was loudly clothed. His face was coarse and clean
shaven. He acknowledged the introductions sullenly.
"I've only a minute," Bobby said to Maria.
He continued, however, to raise his glass indifferently to his lips. All at
once his glass shook. Maria's dark and sparkling face became blurred.
He could no longer define the features of the stranger. He had never
before experienced anything of the kind. He tried to account for it, but
his mind became confused.
"Maria!" he burst out. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Her contralto laugh rippled.
"Bobby looks so funny! Carlos! Leetle Bobby looks so queer! What is
the matter with him?"
Bobby's anger was lost in the increased confusion of his senses,