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Page 60
Emotion had the effect of enlarging the pupils, a phenomenon rarely met
with, so that now as she entered the room and found a stranger present
they seemed to be rather black than blue.
Her embarrassment was acute, and I think she would have retired without
speaking, but:
"Ysola," said Colin Camber, regarding her with a look curiously
compounded of sorrow and pride, "allow me to present Mr. Malcolm Knox,
who has honoured us with a visit."
He turned to me.
"Mr. Knox," he said, "it gives me great pleasure that you should meet
my wife."
Perhaps I had expected this, indeed, subconsciously, I think I had.
Nevertheless, at the words "my wife" I felt that I started. The analogy
with Edgar Allan Poe was complete.
As Mrs. Camber extended her hand with a sort of appealing timidity, it
appeared to me that she felt herself to be intruding. The expression in
her beautiful eyes when she glanced at her husband could only be
described as one of adoration; and whilst it was impossible to doubt
his love for her, I wondered if his colossal egotism were capable of
stooping to affection. I wondered if he knew how to tend and protect
this delicate Southern girl wife of his.
Remembering the episode of the Lavender Arms, I felt justified in
doubting her happiness, and in this I saw an explanation of the mingled
sorrow and pride with which Colin Camber regarded her. It might betoken
recognition of his own shortcomings as a husband.
"How nice of you to come and see us. Mr. Knox," she said.
She spoke in a faintly husky manner which was curiously attractive,
although lacking the deep, vibrant tones of Madame de St�mer's
memorable voice. Her English was imperfect, but her accent good.
"Your husband has been carrying me to enchanted lands, Mrs. Camber," I
replied. "I have never known a morning to pass so quickly."
"Oh," she replied, and laughed with a childish glee which I was glad to
witness. "Did he tell you all about the book which is going to make the
world good? Did he tell you it will make us rich as well?"
"Rich?" said Camber, frowning slightly. "Nature's riches are health and
love. If we hold these the rest will come. Now that you have joined us,
Ysola, I shall beg Mr. Knox, in honour of this occasion, to drink a
glass of wine and break a biscuit as a pledge of future meetings."
I watched him as he spoke, a lean, unkempt figure invested with a
curious dignity, and I found it almost impossible to believe that this
was the same man who had sat in the bar of the Lavender Arms, sipping
whisky and water. The resemblance to the portrait in Harley's office
became more marked than ever. There was an air of high breeding about
the delicate features which, curiously enough, was accentuated by the
unshaven chin. I recognized that refusal would be regarded as a rebuff,
and therefore:
"You are very kind," I said.
Colin Camber inclined his head gravely and courteously.
"We are very glad to have you with us, Mr. Knox," he replied.
He clapped his hands, and, silent as a shadow, Ah Tsong appeared. I
noted that although it was Camber who had summoned him, it was to Mrs.
Camber that the Chinaman turned for orders. I had thought his yellow
face incapable of expression, but as his oblique eyes turned in the
direction of the girl I read in them a sort of dumb worship, such as
one sees in the eyes of a dog.
She spoke to him rapidly in Chinese.
"Hoi, hoi," he muttered, "hoi, hoi," nodded his head, and went out.
I saw that Colin Camber had detected my interest, for:
"Ah Tsong is really my wife's servant," he explained.
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