children of the whirlwind-第12部分

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go　straight。〃

And　then　the　Duchess　went　on　to　make　the　longest　speech　that　any　living　person　had　ever　heard　issue　from　her　lips；　and　to　reveal　more　than　had　yet　been　heard　of　that　unmysterious　mystery　which　lived　within　her　shriveled；　misshapen　figure：

〃That's　what　made　me　interested　in　Joe　Ellison's　storyhis　wanting　to　get　his　child　clear　of　the　life　he　was　living；　though　I　didn't　know　he　had　any　such　ideas　till　you　told　me。　Larry；　I　couldn't　get　out　of　this　life　myself；　I　was　part　of　it；　I　belonged　to　it。　But　I　felt　the　same　as　Joe　Ellison；　and　over　forty　years　ago　I　got　your　mother　out　of　it；　and　your　mother　never　came　back　to　it。　I　did　that　much。　After　she　died　it　made　me　sick　when　you；　all　I've　got　left；　began　to　go　crooked。　But　I　had　no　control　over　you；　I　couldn't　do　anything。　So　I'm　glad　that　at　last　you're　going　to　go　straight。　I'm　glad；　Larry！　〃

The　emotion　that　had　given　her　voice　a　strange　and　increasing　vibrance；　was　suddenly　brought　under　control　or　snuffed　out；　and　she　added　in　her　usual　thin；　mechanical　tone：　〃The　money　will　be　ready　for　you　in　the　morning。〃

Startled　and　embarrassed　by　this　outbreak　of　things　long　hidden　beneath　the　dust　in　the　secret　chambers　of　her　being；　and　wishing　to　avoid　the　further　embarrassment　of　thanks；　the　Duchess　turned　quickly　and　awkwardly　back　to　her　desk；　and　her　bent　old　body　became　fixed　above　her　figures。　In　a　moment　the　ever…alert　Hunt　had　out　the　little　block　of　drawing…paper　he　always　carried　in　a　pocket；　and　with　swift；　eager　strokes　he　was　sketching　the　outline　of　that　bent；　shrunken　shape　that　had　subsided　so　swiftly　from　emotion　to　the　commonplace。

Larry　gazed　at　the　Duchess　in　silent　bewilderment。　He　had　thought　he　had　known　his　grandmother。　He　was　now　realizing　that　perhaps　he　did　not　know　his　grandmother　at　all。




CHAPTER　VIII


That　night　Larry　slept　on　a　cot　set　up　in　Hunt's　studio。　Hunt　had　made　the　proposition　that　Larry　consider　the　studio　his　headquarters　for　the　present；　and　Larry　had　accepted。　Of　course　the　cot　and　the　rough…　and…ready　furnishings　of　the　studio　were　grotesquely　short　of　the　luxury　of　those　sunny　days　when　Larry　had　had　plenty　of　easy　money　and　had　been　free　to　gratify　his　taste　for　the　best　of　everything；　but　the　quarters　were　infinitely　more　luxurious　and　comfortable　than　his　more　recent　three…by…seven　room　at　Sing　Sing　with　its　damp　and　chilly　stone　walls。

There　were　many　reasons　why　Larry　was　appealed　to　by　the　idea　of　making　his　home　for　the　present　in　this　old　house　in　this　dingy；　unexciting；　unromantic　street。　He　was　drawn　toward　this　bluff；　outspoken；　autocratic　painter；　and　was　curious　about　him。　And　then　the　way　his　grandmother　had　spoken；　the　gleam　in　her　old　eyes；　had　stirred　an　affection　for　her　that　he　had　never　before　felt。　And　then　there　was　Maggie；　with　her　startlingly　new　dusky　beauty；　her　admiration　of　him　that　had　so　swiftly　altered　to　defiance；　her　challenge　to　a　duel　of　purposes。

Yes；　for　the　present；　this　dingy　old　house　in　this　dingy　old　street　was　just　the　place　he　preferred　to　be。

It　was　not　the　part　of　wisdom　to　start　forth　on　the　beginning　of　his　new　career　in　his　shapeless　prison　shoddy；　so　the　next　day　Larry　pottered　about　the　studio；　acting　as　maid…of…all…work；　while　the　clothes　in　his　trunk　which　had　been　stored　with　the　Duchess　were　being　sponged　and　pressed　by　the　little　tailor　down　the　street；　and　while　a　laundress；　driven　by　the　Duchess；　was　preparing　the　rest　of　his　outfit　for　his　debut。　In　his　capacity　of　maid；　with　a　basket　on　his　arm；　he　went　out　into　the　little　street；　where　in　his　shabby　clothes　he　was　recognized　by　none　and　leaned　for　a　time　against　the　mongrel；　underfed　tree　that　was　hesitatingly　greeting　the　spring　with　a　few　half…hearted　leaves。　He　bathed　himself　in　the　warm　sun　which　seemed　over…glorious　for　so　mean　a　street；　he　filled　his　lungs　with　the　tangy　May　air；　yes；　it　was　wonderful　to　be　free　again！

Then　he　strolled　about　the　street　on　his　business　of　marketing。　It　amused　him　to　be　buying　three　pounds　of　potatoes　and　a　pound　of　chopped　meat　and　a　package　of　macaroni；　and　to　be　counting　Hunt's　penniesremembering　those　days　when　he　had　been　a　personage　to　head　waiters；　and　had　had　his　table　reserved；　and　with　a　careless　Midas's　gesture　had　left　a　dollar；　or　five；　or　twenty；　for　the　waiter's　tip。

When　he　climbed　back　into　the　studio　he　watched　Hunt　slashing　about　with　his　paint。　Hunt　growled　and　roared　at　him；　and　kidded　him；　and　Larry　came　back　at　him　with　the　same　kind　of　verbal　horseplay；　after　the　fashion　of　men。　Presently　a　relaxation；　if　not　actual　friendship；　began　to　develop　in　their　attitude　toward　each　other。

〃Tell　you　what；〃　Larry　remarked；　standing　with　legs　wide　apart　gazing　at　the　picture　of　the　Italian　mother　throned　on　the　curb　nursing　her　child；　〃if　I　were　dolled　up　all　proper；　I　bet　I　could　take　some　of　this　stuff　out　and　sell　it　for　real　dough。〃

〃Huh；　nobody　wants　that　stuff！〃　snorted　Hunt。　〃It's　too　good。　Sell　it！　You're　off　your　bean；　young　fellow！〃

〃I　can　sell　anything；　my　bucko；〃　Larry　returned　evenly。　〃All　I　need　is　a　man　who　has　plenty　of　money　and　a　moderate　willingness　to　listen。　I've　sold　pictures　of　an　oil　derrick　on　a　stock　certificate；　exact　value　nothing　at　all；　for　a　masterpiece's　priceso　I　guess　I　could　sell　a　real　picture。〃

〃Aw；　you　shut　up！〃

〃The　real　trouble　with　you；〃　commented　Larry；　〃is　that；　though　you　can　paint；　as　a　business　man；　as　a　promoter　of　your　own　stock；　the　suckling　infant　in　that　picture　is　a　J。　Pierpont　Morgan　of　multiplied　capacity　compared　to〃

〃Stop　making　that　noise　like　a　damned　fool！〃

This　amiable　pastime　of　throwing　stones　at　each　other　was　just　then　interrupted　by　the　entrance　of　Maggie　for　an　appointed　sitting；　before　going　to　her　business　of　carrying　a　tray　of　cigarettes　about　the　Ritzmore。　She　gave　Hunt　a　pleasant　〃good…morning；〃　the　pleasantness　purposely　stressed　in　order　to　make　more　emphatic　her　curt　nod　to　Larry　and　the　cold　hostility　of　her　eye。　During　the　hour　she　posed；　Larry；　moving　leisurely　about　his　kitchen　duties；　addressed　her　several　times；　but　no　remark　got　a　word　from　her　in　response。　He　took　his　rebuffs　smilingly；　which　irritated　her　all　the　more。

〃Maggie；　I'll　get　my　real　clothes　late　this　afternoon；　how　about　my　dropping　in　at　the　Ritzmore　for　a　cup　of　tea；　and　letting　me　buy　some　cigarettes　and　talk　to　you　when　you're　not　busy？〃　he　inquired　when　Hunt　had　finished　with　her。

〃You　may　buy　cigarettes；　but　you'll　get　no　talk！〃　she　snapped；　and　head　high　and　dark　eyes　flashing　contempt；　she　swept　past　him。

Hunt　watched　her　out。　As　the　door　slammed　behind　her；　he　remarked　dryly；　his　eyes　searching　Larry　keenly：

〃Our　young　queen　doesn't　seem　wildly　enthusiastic　about　you　or　your　programme。〃

〃She　certainly　is　not。〃

〃Don't　let　that　worry　you；　young　fellow。　That's　a　common　trait　of　her　whole　tribe；　women　simply　cannot　believe　in　a　man！〃

There　was　an　emphasis　and　a　cynicism　in　this　last　remark　which　caused　Larry　to　regard　the　painter　searchingly。　〃You　seem　to　know　what　it　is。　Don't　mean　to　butt　in；　Hunt；　if　there　are　any　trespassing　signs　up　but　there's　a　woman　in　your　case？〃

〃Of　course　there　isthere's　always　a　woman；　that's　another　reaso