Dolly Dialogues [38]
Dolly. So she went round and leant over his shoulder and read the book.
"What's that scent you've got on?" asked Rhadamanthus.
"Bouquet du diable," said she. (I had never heard of the perfume before.) "Isn't it sweet?"
"I haven't smelt it since I was a boy," sighed Rhadamanthus.
"Poor old thing," said Dolly. "I'm not going to read all this, you know." And, with a somewhat contemptuous smile, she walked back to her chair. "They ought to be ashamed of themselves," she added, as she sat down. "It's just because I'm not a fright."
"Aren't you a fright?" asked Rhadamanthus. "Where are my spectacles?"
He put them on and looked at Dolly.
"I must go in, you know," said Dolly, smiling at Rhadamanthus. "My husband has gone in!"
"I shouldn't have thought you'd consider that conclusive," said he, with a touch of satire in his tone.
"Don't be horrid," said Dolly, pouting.
There was a pause. Rhadamanthus examined Dolly through his spectacles.
"This is a very painful duty," said he, at last. "I have sat here for a great many years, and I have seldom had a more painful duty."
"It's very absurd of you," said Dolly.
"I can't help it, though," said he.
"Do you really mean that I'm not to go in?"
"I do, indeed," said Rhadamanthus.
Dolly rose. She leant her arms on the raised ledge which ran along the table, and she leant her chin on her hands.
"Really?" she said.
"Really," said he, looking the other way.
A sudden change came over Dolly's face. Her dimples vanished; her eyes grew pathetic and began to shine rather than to sparkle; her lip quivered just a little.
"You're very unkind," she said in an extremely low tone. "I had no idea you would be so unkind."
Rhadamanthus seemed very uncomfortable.
"Don't do that," he said, quite sharply, fidgeting with the blotting paper.
Dolly began to move slowly round the table. Rhadamanthus sat still. When she was standing close by him, she put her hand lightly on his arm and said:
"Please do, Mr. Rhadamanthus."
"It's as much as my place is worth," he grumbled.
Dolly's eyes shone still, but the faintest little smile began to play about her mouth.
"Some day," she said (with total inappropriateness, now I come to think of it, though it did not strike me so at the time), "you'll be glad to remember having done a kind thing. When you're old--because you are not really old now--you will say, 'I'm glad I didn't send poor Dolly Mickleham away crying.'"
Rhadamanthus uttered an inarticulate sound--half impatience, half, I fancy, something else.
"We are none of us perfect, I dare say. If I asked your wife--"
"I haven't got a wife," said Rhadamanthus.
"That's why you're so hard-hearted," said Dolly. "A man who's got a wife is never hard on other women."
There was another pause. Then Rhadamanthus, looking straight at the blotting paper, said:
"Oh, well, don't bother me. Be off with you;" and as he spoke, the door behind him opened.
"Oh, you old dear!" she cried; and, stooping swiftly, she kissed Rhadamanthus. "You're horribly bristly!" she laughed; and then, before he could move, she ran through the door.
I rose from my seat, taking my hat and stick in my hand. I felt, as you may suppose, that I had been there long enough. When I moved Rhadamanthus looked up, and with an attempt at unconsciousness observed:
"We will proceed with your case now, if you please, Mr. Carter."
I looked him full in the face. Rhadamanthus blushed. I pursued my way towards the door.
"Stop!" he said, in a blustering tone. "You can't go there, you know."
I smiled significantly.
"Isn't it rather too late for that sort of thing?" I asked. "You seem to forget that I have been here for the last quarter of an hour."
"I didn't know she was going to do it," he protested.
"Oh, of course," said I, "that will be your story. Mine, however, I shall tell in my own way."
Rhadamanthus blushed again. Evidently he felt that he was in a delicate position. We were standing thus, facing one another, when the
"What's that scent you've got on?" asked Rhadamanthus.
"Bouquet du diable," said she. (I had never heard of the perfume before.) "Isn't it sweet?"
"I haven't smelt it since I was a boy," sighed Rhadamanthus.
"Poor old thing," said Dolly. "I'm not going to read all this, you know." And, with a somewhat contemptuous smile, she walked back to her chair. "They ought to be ashamed of themselves," she added, as she sat down. "It's just because I'm not a fright."
"Aren't you a fright?" asked Rhadamanthus. "Where are my spectacles?"
He put them on and looked at Dolly.
"I must go in, you know," said Dolly, smiling at Rhadamanthus. "My husband has gone in!"
"I shouldn't have thought you'd consider that conclusive," said he, with a touch of satire in his tone.
"Don't be horrid," said Dolly, pouting.
There was a pause. Rhadamanthus examined Dolly through his spectacles.
"This is a very painful duty," said he, at last. "I have sat here for a great many years, and I have seldom had a more painful duty."
"It's very absurd of you," said Dolly.
"I can't help it, though," said he.
"Do you really mean that I'm not to go in?"
"I do, indeed," said Rhadamanthus.
Dolly rose. She leant her arms on the raised ledge which ran along the table, and she leant her chin on her hands.
"Really?" she said.
"Really," said he, looking the other way.
A sudden change came over Dolly's face. Her dimples vanished; her eyes grew pathetic and began to shine rather than to sparkle; her lip quivered just a little.
"You're very unkind," she said in an extremely low tone. "I had no idea you would be so unkind."
Rhadamanthus seemed very uncomfortable.
"Don't do that," he said, quite sharply, fidgeting with the blotting paper.
Dolly began to move slowly round the table. Rhadamanthus sat still. When she was standing close by him, she put her hand lightly on his arm and said:
"Please do, Mr. Rhadamanthus."
"It's as much as my place is worth," he grumbled.
Dolly's eyes shone still, but the faintest little smile began to play about her mouth.
"Some day," she said (with total inappropriateness, now I come to think of it, though it did not strike me so at the time), "you'll be glad to remember having done a kind thing. When you're old--because you are not really old now--you will say, 'I'm glad I didn't send poor Dolly Mickleham away crying.'"
Rhadamanthus uttered an inarticulate sound--half impatience, half, I fancy, something else.
"We are none of us perfect, I dare say. If I asked your wife--"
"I haven't got a wife," said Rhadamanthus.
"That's why you're so hard-hearted," said Dolly. "A man who's got a wife is never hard on other women."
There was another pause. Then Rhadamanthus, looking straight at the blotting paper, said:
"Oh, well, don't bother me. Be off with you;" and as he spoke, the door behind him opened.
"Oh, you old dear!" she cried; and, stooping swiftly, she kissed Rhadamanthus. "You're horribly bristly!" she laughed; and then, before he could move, she ran through the door.
I rose from my seat, taking my hat and stick in my hand. I felt, as you may suppose, that I had been there long enough. When I moved Rhadamanthus looked up, and with an attempt at unconsciousness observed:
"We will proceed with your case now, if you please, Mr. Carter."
I looked him full in the face. Rhadamanthus blushed. I pursued my way towards the door.
"Stop!" he said, in a blustering tone. "You can't go there, you know."
I smiled significantly.
"Isn't it rather too late for that sort of thing?" I asked. "You seem to forget that I have been here for the last quarter of an hour."
"I didn't know she was going to do it," he protested.
"Oh, of course," said I, "that will be your story. Mine, however, I shall tell in my own way."
Rhadamanthus blushed again. Evidently he felt that he was in a delicate position. We were standing thus, facing one another, when the