The Pit [123]
"No, I haven't seen it." She came towards her sister across the room. "I thought, maybe," she added, gravely, as she drew the heart-shaped match box from her pocket, "that you might be looking for this. I took it. I knew you wouldn't care to have Mr. Jadwin find it here."
Laura struck the little silver heart from Page's hand, with a violence that sent it spinning across the room, and sprang to her feet.
"You took it!" she cried. "You took it! How dare you! What do you mean? What do I care if Curtis should find it here? What's it to me that he should know that Mr. Corthell came up here? Of course he was here."
But Page, though very pale, was perfectly calm under her sister's outburst.
"If you didn't care whether any one knew that Mr. Corthell came up here," she said, quietly, "why did you tell us this morning at breakfast that you and he were in the art gallery the whole evening? I thought," she added, with elaborate blandness, "I thought I would be doing you a service in hiding the match box."
"A service! You! What have I to hide?" cried Laura, almost inarticulate. "Of course I said we were in the art gallery the whole evening. So we were. We did--I do remember now--we did come up here for an instant, to see how my picture hung. We went downstairs again at once. We did not so much as sit down. He was not in the room two minutes."
"He was here," returned Page, "long enough to smoke half a dozen times." She pointed to a silver pen tray on the mahogany table, hidden behind a book rack and littered with the ashes and charred stumps of some five or six cigarettes.
"Really, Laura," Page remarked. "Really, you manage very awkwardly, it seems to me."
Laura caught her riding-crop in her right hand
"Don't you--don't you make me forget myself;" she cried, breathlessly.
"It seems to me," observed Page, quietly, "that you've done that long since, yourself."
Laura flung the crop down and folded her arms.
"Now," she cried, her eyes blazing and rivetted upon Page's. "Now, just what do you mean? Sit down," she commanded, flinging a hand towards a chair, "sit down, and tell me just what you mean by all this."
But Page remained standing. She met her sister's gaze without wavering.
"Do you want me to believe," she answered, "that it made no difference to you that Mr. Corthell's match safe was here?"
"Not the least," exclaimed Laura. "Not the least."
"Then why did you search for it so when you came in? I was not asleep all of the time. I saw you."
"Because," answered Laura, "because--I--because--" Then all at once she burst out afresh: "Have I got to answer to you for what I do? Have I got to explain? All your life long you've pretended to judge your sister. Now you've gone too far. Now I forbid it--from this day on. What I do is my affair; I'll ask nobody's advice. I'll do as I please, do you understand?" The tears sprang to her eyes, the sobs strangled in her throat. "I'll do as I please, as I please," and with the words she sank down in the chair by her desk and struck her bare knuckles again and again upon the open lid, crying out through her tears and her sobs, and from between her tight-shut teeth: "I'll do as I please, do you understand? As I please, as I please! I will be happy. I will, I will, I will!"
"Oh, darling, dearest----" cried Page, running forward. But Laura, on her feet once more, thrust her back.
"Don't touch me," she cried. "I hate you!" She put her fists to her temples and, her eyes closed, rocked herself to and fro. "Don't you touch me. Go away from me; go away from me. I hate you; I hate you all. I hate this house, I hate this life. You are all killing me. Oh, my God, if I could only die!"
She flung herself full length upon the couch, face downward. Her sobs shook her from head to foot.
Page knelt at her side, an arm about her shoulder, but to all her sister's consolations Laura, her voice muffled in her folded arms, only cried:
"Let me alone, let me alone. Don't touch me."
For a time Page tried to make herself
Laura struck the little silver heart from Page's hand, with a violence that sent it spinning across the room, and sprang to her feet.
"You took it!" she cried. "You took it! How dare you! What do you mean? What do I care if Curtis should find it here? What's it to me that he should know that Mr. Corthell came up here? Of course he was here."
But Page, though very pale, was perfectly calm under her sister's outburst.
"If you didn't care whether any one knew that Mr. Corthell came up here," she said, quietly, "why did you tell us this morning at breakfast that you and he were in the art gallery the whole evening? I thought," she added, with elaborate blandness, "I thought I would be doing you a service in hiding the match box."
"A service! You! What have I to hide?" cried Laura, almost inarticulate. "Of course I said we were in the art gallery the whole evening. So we were. We did--I do remember now--we did come up here for an instant, to see how my picture hung. We went downstairs again at once. We did not so much as sit down. He was not in the room two minutes."
"He was here," returned Page, "long enough to smoke half a dozen times." She pointed to a silver pen tray on the mahogany table, hidden behind a book rack and littered with the ashes and charred stumps of some five or six cigarettes.
"Really, Laura," Page remarked. "Really, you manage very awkwardly, it seems to me."
Laura caught her riding-crop in her right hand
"Don't you--don't you make me forget myself;" she cried, breathlessly.
"It seems to me," observed Page, quietly, "that you've done that long since, yourself."
Laura flung the crop down and folded her arms.
"Now," she cried, her eyes blazing and rivetted upon Page's. "Now, just what do you mean? Sit down," she commanded, flinging a hand towards a chair, "sit down, and tell me just what you mean by all this."
But Page remained standing. She met her sister's gaze without wavering.
"Do you want me to believe," she answered, "that it made no difference to you that Mr. Corthell's match safe was here?"
"Not the least," exclaimed Laura. "Not the least."
"Then why did you search for it so when you came in? I was not asleep all of the time. I saw you."
"Because," answered Laura, "because--I--because--" Then all at once she burst out afresh: "Have I got to answer to you for what I do? Have I got to explain? All your life long you've pretended to judge your sister. Now you've gone too far. Now I forbid it--from this day on. What I do is my affair; I'll ask nobody's advice. I'll do as I please, do you understand?" The tears sprang to her eyes, the sobs strangled in her throat. "I'll do as I please, as I please," and with the words she sank down in the chair by her desk and struck her bare knuckles again and again upon the open lid, crying out through her tears and her sobs, and from between her tight-shut teeth: "I'll do as I please, do you understand? As I please, as I please! I will be happy. I will, I will, I will!"
"Oh, darling, dearest----" cried Page, running forward. But Laura, on her feet once more, thrust her back.
"Don't touch me," she cried. "I hate you!" She put her fists to her temples and, her eyes closed, rocked herself to and fro. "Don't you touch me. Go away from me; go away from me. I hate you; I hate you all. I hate this house, I hate this life. You are all killing me. Oh, my God, if I could only die!"
She flung herself full length upon the couch, face downward. Her sobs shook her from head to foot.
Page knelt at her side, an arm about her shoulder, but to all her sister's consolations Laura, her voice muffled in her folded arms, only cried:
"Let me alone, let me alone. Don't touch me."
For a time Page tried to make herself