Eighteen
1
“Oh, Wally, how you startled me!”
Gina, emerging from the shadows by the theatre, jumped back a little, as
the figure of Wally Hudd materialised out of the gloom. It was not yet
quite dark, but had that
eerie1 half light when objects lose their reality and
take on the fantastic shapes of nightmare.
“What are you doing down here? You never come near the theatre as a
rule.”
“Maybe I was looking for you, Gina. It’s usually the best place to find
you, isn’t it?”
Wally’s soft, faintly drawling voice held no special insinuation and yet
“It’s a job and I’m keen on it. I like the atmosphere of paint and canvas,
and backstage generally.”
“Yes. It means a lot to you. I’ve seen that. Tell me, Gina, how long do you
think it will be before this business is all cleared up?”
“The inquest’s tomorrow. It will just be
adjourned3 for a fortnight or
stand.”
“A fortnight,” said Wally thoughtfully. “I see. Say three weeks, perhaps.
And after that—we’re free. I’m going back to the States then.”
“Oh! but I can’t run off like that,” cried Gina. “I couldn’t leave Grandam.
And we’ve got these two new productions we’re working on”—
“I didn’t say ‘we.’ I said I was going.”
Gina stopped and looked up at her husband. Something in the effect of
the shadows made him seem very big. A big, quiet figure—and in some
way, or so it seemed to her, faintly menacing …
standing6 over her. Threat-
ening—what?
“Do you mean”—she hesitated—“you don’t want me to come?”
“Why, no—I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t care if I come or not? Is that it?”
She was suddenly angry.
“See here, Gina. This is where we’ve got to have a showdown. We didn’t
know much about each other when we married—not much about each
other’s backgrounds, not much about the other one’s folks. We thought it
didn’t matter. We thought nothing mattered except having a
swell7 time to-
gether. Well, stage one is over. Your folks didn’t—and don’t—think much
of me. Maybe they’re right. I’m not their kind. But if you think I’m staying
on here, kicking my heels, and doing odd jobs in what I consider is just a
crazy setup—well, think again! I want to live in my own country, doing the
kind of job I want to do, and can do. My idea of a wife is the kind of wife
who used to go along with the old pioneers, ready for anything, hardship,
unfamiliar8 country, danger, strange surroundings … Perhaps that’s too
much to ask of you, but it’s that or nothing! Maybe I
hustled9 you into mar-
riage. If so, you’d better get free of me and start again. It’s up to you. If you
prefer one of these arty boys—it’s your life and you’ve got to choose. But
I’m going home.”
“I think you’re an absolute pig,” said Gina. “I’m enjoying myself here.”
“Is that so? Well, I’m not. You even enjoy murder, I suppose?”
Gina drew in her breath sharply.
“That’s a cruel, wicked thing to say. I was very fond of Uncle
Christian10.
And don’t you realise that someone has been quietly poisoning Grandam
for months? It’s horrible!”
“I told you I didn’t like it here. I don’t like the kind of things that go on.
I’m quitting.”
“If you’re allowed to! Don’t you realise you’ll probably be arrested for
Uncle Christian’s murder? I hate the way Inspector Curry looks at you.
He’s just like a cat watching a mouse with a nasty sharp-clawed paw all
ready to
pounce11. Just because you were out of the Hall fixing those lights,
and because you’re not English, I’m sure they’ll go fastening it on you.”
“They’ll need some evidence first.”
“I’m frightened for you, Wally. I’ve been frightened all along.”
“No good being scared. I tell you, they’ve got nothing on me!”
They walked in silence towards the house.
Gina said:
“I don’t believe you really want me to come back to America with
you….”
Walter Hudd did not answer.
Gina Hudd turned on him and stamped her foot.
“I hate you. I hate you. You are horrible—a beast—a cruel, unfeeling
beast. After all I’ve tried to do for you! You want to be rid of me. You don’t
care if you never see me again. Well, I don’t care if I never see you again! I
was a stupid little fool ever to marry you, and I shall get a divorce as soon
as possible, and I shall marry Stephen or Alexis and be much happier than
I ever could be with you. And I hope you go back to the States and marry
“Fine!” said Wally. “Now we know where we are!”
分享到: