“Yes, take him the coffee. Be quick, my dear boy; and be nice to him!”
The son said with youthful grimness: “Oh, I’ll be nice!” and went.
“No, don’t smile--it’s like _him_. Cry it off your chest.”
Late--299 was sitting in the bath, smiling through steam and the smoke of his cigarette at his big toe. Raised just above the level of the water, it had a nail blackened by some weight that had dropped on it. He took the coffee-cup from his son’s hand.
“For two years and nine months I’ve been looking forward to this--but it beats the band, Jack.”
“Good coffee, tobacco, hot water--greatest blessings earth affords. Half an hour in here, and--spotless, body and soul!”
“Yes; is there anything you want to add?”
“Not so long as I was there. Do you like it?”
“Good. You won’t have to do with human beings.”
“I’ve got the promise of a job in the Gardens here at the beginning of next year. And I’m--I’m engaged.”
“Excellent. I believe in marrying young.”
“My dear fellow, one expects to have been dropped. Why suppose one’s family superior to other people’s? _Pas si bête!_”
Gazing at that smiling face where prison pallor was yielding to the heat, above the neck whose sinews seemed unnaturally sharp and visible, the boy felt a spasm of remorse.
“We’ve never had a proper chance to tell you how frightfully sorry we’ve been for you. Only, we don’t understand even now why you did such a thing.”
“Should I have done it if I’d thought it would have been spotted? A woman going to the devil; a small risk to oneself--and there we were! Never save anyone, at risk to yourself, Jack. I’m sure you agree.”
The boy’s face went very red. How could he ever get out what he had come to say?
“I have no intention of putting my tail between my legs. D’you mind taking this cup?”
“You might lend me a razor. I was shaved this morning with a sort of billhook.”
Away from that smiling stranger in the bath, the boy shook himself. He must and would speak out!
When he came back with the shaving gear, his father was lying flat, deeply immersed, with closed eyes. And setting his back against the door, he blurted out: “Nobody knows down here. They think mother’s a widow.”
The eyes opened, the smile resumed control.
“I do; I know that Mabel--the girl I’m engaged to--has no suspicion. She’s coming to dinner; so is Roddy Blades--Beryl’s _fiancé_.”
