The Blind Side

Chapter XV

Peter walked up and down in Lucy Craddock’s sitting-room and waited for Lee to come back. They didn’t keep her long, but they kept her long enough for a young man in a state of strain to have several kinds of nightmares about what they might be asking her behind those two closed doors and what she might be answering. When she did come he thought she looked relieved.

“What did they ask you?”

“Not very much.” She sat down in the biggest chair and leaned back. Her brief white linen dress left her arms bare right up to the shoulder. She stretched them out on the big padded arms of the chair and closed her eyes.

“What do you mean by not very much?”

The soft lashes lay on her cheek.

“Just what you said. They wanted to know when I got here, and when I went to bed, and when I got up, and whether I heard the shot.”

“You didn’t.”

“I told them I didn’t. They asked me whether I was friends with Ross.”

“What did you say to that?”

The lashes flickered.

“I said not particularly. And then they asked about Mavis-whether she was a friend of mine, whether she was a friend of yours, and whether she was a friend of Ross’s.”

“And you said?”

“That she wasn’t particularly my friend or yours, but that she and Ross were friendly. It wasn’t any good my saying they weren’t, because Miss Bingham would be quite sure to give that away. She was going in as I came out.” Lee’s eyes opened suddenly and wide. “Oh, Peter-do you suppose she heard anything? It’s a frightful thought!”

“We can’t do anything about it if she did,” said Peter gloomily.

He came and sat down on the floor in front of the big chair and laid his cheek against her hand.

“Don’t let’s bother about all these beastly people. Are you glad you didn’t go to South America?”

The hand just moved against his cheek.

“I don’t know-there wouldn’t be any policemen-”

“If you were in South America with that dago you might be very glad to see a policeman.”

She tried to pull away her hand, but he caught it just in time. He began to kiss the palm.

“You want someone to look after you, my girl-that’s what you do.”

Just at the moment it sounded rather nice. She sighed, and Peter said,

“I’m going to marry you out of hand, you know.”

The lashes were down again. There was more colour in the cheek on which they rested.

“Are you?”

“I think it can be done in about three days.”

“Don’t I have anything to say about it?” She spoke in a soft, sleepy voice.

“Not very much. You can be there if you’re good.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Peter kneeled up and took her in his arms.

“Lee, you will-you will-you really will.”

Her eyes opened. They looked startlingly dark and clear. They met his own, and without a word denied him.

“Lee-”

It was a long time before she said “No.”

“Why?” said Peter in an angry voice.

Something sparkled behind the fallen lashes.

“You can’t marry everyone who asks you.”

“I don’t want you to. I want you to marry me.”

“I can’t think why.”

“You’re not required to think-you’re not very good at it anyhow.”

She opened her eyes and sat up.

“Peter, what an odious husband you’d make!”

“No, I shouldn’t. I should make a very good husband indeed. I have all the qualities you require-good thinking-apparatus, reliable character, honest, sober, hard-working-”

“What Nanna used to call a good-living young man,” said Lee, still with the sparkle.

“Well, you do know the worst of me.”

“We should quarrel.”

“Of course. All happily married couples quarrel.”

A light shiver went over her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Peter-when you said that-it sounded so nice and ordinary. Do you think we shall ever get back to being nice and ordinary again?”

“I hope so,” said Peter.