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Updated: May 28, 2025
I answered that I certainly couldn't till I'd heard it, whereupon Loder, taking up the silver case again and holding it in his hand as he talked, began: "This happened in Provence, when I was about as old as Marsham there and every bit as romantic. I was there with Carroll you remember poor old Carroll and what a blade of a boy he was as romantic as four Marshams rolled into one.
It struck Loder that possibly his stolidity had exasperated Chilcote, and that possibly Chilcote had been at no pains to conceal the exasperation. The idea caused him to smile involuntarily. "Come into the room, Renwick," he said. "It's uncomfortable to see you standing there. I want to know if Mrs. Chilcote has sent me any message about to-night."
Sir Francis Clavering made his appearance, and skulked for a while about the magnificent rooms; but the company and the splendour which he met there were not to the Baronet's taste, and after tossing off a tumbler of wine or two at the buffet, he quitted Gaunt House for the neighbourhood of Jermyn Street, where his friends Loder, Punter, little Moss Abramns, and Captain Skewball were assembled at the familiar green table.
"I was making a few notes on the political position of Khorasan," he said, glancing with slight apprehensiveness at the other's face. He was a small, shy man, with few social attainments but an extraordinary amount of learning the antithesis of the alert Blessington, whom he had replaced. Loder bore his scrutiny without flinching.
But this time there was more of haste than of uncertainty in his steps, and, reaching the landing, he crossed it in a couple of strides and knocked feverishly on the door. It opened at once, and Loder stood before him. The occasion was peculiar. For a moment neither spoke; each involuntarily looked at the other with new eyes and under changed conditions.
"What am I expected to do?" he asked. Blessington looked up, surprised. "Why, I thought, sir " he began. Then he instantly altered his tone: "Oh, just enter into the spirit of the thing. Lady Astrupp won't put much strain on your credulity, but she'll make a big call on your solemnity." He laughed. He had an infectious laugh, and Loder responded to it. "But what am I to do?" he persisted.
It had no application, in the compromise of practice; it didn't apply even to his play, which he was conscious he had already outlived and as to which he foresaw that, in the coming weeks, frequent alarm would alternate, in his spirit, with frequent esteem. Loder, who was as charming as Mrs. Alsager had announced, struck him as the genius of hospitality.
"That was an ugly wound," he said, his curiosity reawakening as Loder extended his finger. "How did you come by it?" The other smiled. "It's a memento," he said. "Of bravery?" "No. Quite the reverse." He looked again at his hand, then glanced back at Chilcote. "No," he repeated, with an unusual impulse of confidence.
These actor folk were very pleasant people. Even the star, Miss Loder, was quite unspoiled by her success. I have what they call the 'appealing face' and I can squeeze out real tears at the proper juncture. Those are two very necessary attributes for a girl who wishes to gain film success." "But you can really act," Ruth said honestly. "I watched you to-day." "I should be able to act.
Presently the servant departed, and solemnly reentered carrying a silver tray, with cups, a teapot, and cakes. Having adjusted them to his satisfaction, he turned to Loder. "Mrs. Chilcote will be with you in five minutes, sir," he said. He waited for some response, but Loder gave none. Again he had found the advantages of silence, but this time it was silence of a compulsory kind.
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