“It’s about Vera. I’ve got to settle things with her one way or the other. I can’t go on like this, and neither can she. She’s worse than ever.”
“I daresay, but I don’t see what all this is to do with me. You say you want to marry her. Well, why don’t you ask her? That will settle things one way or the other.”
Marsden fidgeted, then said jerkily:
“Yes—of course. But—well—you see—I’ll put it like this. I haven’t a lot to offer. In one way, I mean. That is, I’m not rich. I’ve a little private money, but—we’d have to live in my cottage in the country.”
“Well?”
“And—and that means, of course, that she’d have to give up her job.”
Again, Marsden hesitated. Manner, tone, gesture, plainly revealed how he resented the necessity for stating facts.
“And, of course,” he went on, “I’m not all I might be—physically.”
He gave a shrill little laugh, then added:
“Well, you don’t say anything.”
“I’m waiting to hear what you want me to do,” Rendell replied.
“I see. Well, briefly, it’s this. I want you to sound Vera. I—I want you to tell her the facts and see if she’ll marry me. Mind you,” he went on quickly, “I think she will. I want to marry her immediately. I’ve got a special licence and——”
“You want me to ask her if she’ll marry you!”
“Yes, I do. And I want you to go to her place to-night. She expects me at eight-thirty, but I want you to go instead. Then you can tell me to-morrow what she says. I’ll be here about this time.”
Rendell did not reply for some moments. If he refused, he would not see Vera before he left for Italy. Perhaps it would be better to go. Rosalie had asked him to help her if he could.
“Very well. You said eight-thirty?”
“Yes.”
Rendell finished his drink, then rose.
“I’ll have to go, Marsden. I’ll get a sandwich or something on the way.”
“Good! And I’ll see you—here—about this time to-morrow.”
“Yes, all right.”
Rendell put on his overcoat and left Marsden without another word.
He reached Vera’s flat just before eight-thirty, pressed the bell, and waited. Over a minute elapsed, then he rang again.
A few moments later a light was switched on in the hall and the door opened.
“You!”
She stared at him incredulously.
“Yes—Rendell.”
He tried to speak in his normal tone, but her appearance alarmed him. Her face was swollen and deep lines circled her eyes.
She invited him to enter with a movement of her hand and he followed her into the sitting-room.
He noticed a half-filled suitcase on the table and was about to ask if she were going away, when she turned to him and demanded:
“Why have you come?”
“It was Marsden’s idea.”
“What does he want?”
“He wants me to put certain facts up to you—and then to ask you a question. If your answer is ‘yes,’ he will come here himself to-morrow night.”
“I shan’t be here to-morrow night. I’m going away for the week-end.”
Rendell glanced at her. She flushed crimson and said angrily:
“I suppose I can go away for the week-end if I want to, can’t I?”
“Of course, but you don’t sound as if you do want to.”
Her anger flickered out and her mouth began to tremble. Then she sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands.
“Now, this won’t——”
“Oh, go away! For God’s sake go away! I can’t stand this for another minute!”
“That’s all very well, but——”
She sprang up and faced him. “I’m going to spend the week-end with Captain Frazer!”
“Captain Frazer! What on earth are you talking about?”
“Listen! You must listen! You remember that day at your room—the day he left for Ramsgate?”
“Yes, well?”
“I discovered—that day—that he knew about me and Ivor. Yes he does! I went down to that room of his and found out that he knew. He frightened me and I promised anything. Then he wrote to me——”
“You damned little fool!”
“I tell you he knows! He wrote asking for money. I sent it to him. Then he wrote again—and again. And then—then he said I’d got to go and spend a week-end with him, or——. I said I couldn’t get away. I said I was ill. But, now, I’ve got to go. And I’m going to-morrow.”
“You damned little fool!”
“But I tell you——”
“And I tell you,” Rendell cut in, “that Frazer knows nothing—nothing whatever. He saw you were frightened about something—and traded on it. Show me his letters.”
“But, but——”
“Get me his letters. We’ll soon settle this nonsense. I only want to see how far he had the nerve to go.”
She went to the bedroom, returning almost immediately with a small pile of letters.
Rendell read them carefully.
“I’ll keep these two,” he said at last, handing her the others.
“But what are you going to do? You mustn’t tell him I’ve shown these to you. I’m afraid of him. I daren’t quarrel with him.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, but listen to me. I shall go to Ramsgate——”
“You!”
“To-morrow and bring back a statement, written and signed by Frazer, saying that he knows nothing against you and that he is most grateful for the money you’ve lent him. Also, that he’ll repay it as soon as he can. You’ll have that statement tomorrow night.”
“He won’t give it to you.”
“Yes, he will. I understand Frazer pretty well. He’ll do what I want.”
“You really believe that?”
“I promise it. And I suppose this is why you’ve been avoiding me. You’ve plenty of brains, Vera, but—emotionally—you’re a bit of a fool.”
She sank into a chair and began to cry.
“But I suppose you were so frightened you didn’t know what you were doing. Was that it?”
“Yes.”
He went over to her and took her hands in his.
“Come on. I’m going to put you into a more comfortable chair.”
He raised her gently, then led her to an arm-chair near the fire.
“Now, have a cigarette.”
“Why are you so good to me? I was nearly mad to-night.”
“Then why didn’t you send for me?”
She did not reply, and he went on.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Tell me—have you had anything to eat?”
She shook her head.
“Then I’ll go out and get something.”
“No—really!—I couldn’t eat anything.”
There was a long silence. Eventually Rendell asked:
“Do you feel up to discussing Marsden?”
“Yes, I suppose so. What does he want?”
“He wants you to marry him.”
“Then why did he send you to ask me?”
“Because he feels a bit awkward about it,” Rendell replied. “And for these reasons. He hasn’t much money. You’d have to live in his cottage in the country. You’d also have to give up your job. And—he’s a cripple.”
“And I don’t love him,” Vera added.
“No, but he doesn’t know that.”
“Oh well, you can tell him I’ll marry him.”
Her tone was so casual, and yet contained such weariness, that Rendell did not reply immediately.
“You’re as indifferent as all that?” he asked at last.
“Yes. You were right when you said I was a fool emotionally. I’ll be safer behind bars. So I’d better marry Peter, and the sooner the better.”