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Updated: May 2, 2025
And turning around to face Vickers, he added slowly, "Isabelle and I will do what seems best to us, just as under similar circumstances you did what you thought was best for you without consulting anybody, as I remember." Vickers quivered as his eye met Cairy's glance, but he accepted the sneer quietly. "The circumstances were not the same.
Isabelle remarked, feeling that Cairy's success might point for Vickers his own defeat, and stir him into healthy action. "What? Write a play?" "No you old dear!" She caressed his hand. "I think it would be good for you to feel you were doing something in the world, instead of running about with that absurd child." She wanted to say much more about Delia Conry, but bided a more fitting time.
She turned to her desk, and then remarked as if she felt Cairy's disappointment: "You can come in after dinner if you like, Tom! We can have the evening, perhaps." He looked at her questioningly, as if he would insist on an explanation. But Conny was not one of whom even a lover would demand explanations when she was in this mood. "We can't always play, Tommy!" she sighed.
He was accustomed thus to dramatize an emotional state, as those of his temperament are wont to do, living in a world of their own feelings imaginatively projected. While Vickers listened to Cairy's torrent of words, he had but one thought: 'It's no use. He can't be reached that way any way! A stone wall stopped their progress.
Holding the pony with one hand and pointing the revolver at a blossom on a magnolia tree a few paces away, he fired and the white petals came fluttering down. A second report and another blossom fell. The pony jumped and snorted, but it did not disturb Cairy's aim. A third blossom fell, and then he quickly shot the descending bud which had been cut by the previous shot. "Steady hand!"
There was an enchantment in the moving lights on the river, the millions of fixed lights in the long city. The scent of sea water reached them, strong and vital, with its ever witching associations of far-off lands. Isabelle turned and met Cairy's eyes looking intently at her. "You seem so joyous to-night!" he said almost reproachfully. She smiled at him softly. "But I am!
"Tommy distracts John," Isabelle explained to Vickers. "If he only could play golf, I suspect John would steal him from me." As the weeks passed, however, Cairy was drawn to the city for longer intervals. The new play had not been a "Broadway success," in fact had been taken off after a short run, and Cairy's money affairs were again becoming precarious, much to Isabella's frank concern.
It was true that she was not well; the winter had taxed her strength, and she lived quite up to the margin of her vitality. That was her plan, also. Moreover, the day had contained rather more than its share of problems.... When Cairy's light step pressed the stair, she turned quickly from the fire. "Ah, Tommy, so you got my message?" She greeted him with a slow smile. "Where were you dining?"
In response to which Isabelle mischievously remarked: "So you and Conny really have had a tiff? I must get her to tell me about it." "Do you think she would tell you the truth?" "No." Isabelle, in spite of Cairy's protestations about his work, was gratified with her discovery, as she called it.
"I must dress," Percy observed negligently, setting down his cup of tea. "Come here and tell me you are not jealous," Conny commanded. As her husband smiled and brushed her fair hair with his lips, she muttered, "You silly!" just as she had to Cairy's unreasonableness. Why! She was Percy's destiny and he knew it.... She had a contempt for people who ruffled themselves over petty emotions.
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