The answer came slowly.
‘Er – of course. When?’
‘Any time that suits you.’
‘Are you at Mount Street?’
‘Yes, but I would rather come to you.’
‘Well – er – would –? How about tea at my rooms in Ryder Street? You know the number?’
‘Yes, thank you. Five o’clock?’
Approaching those rooms she needed all her pluck. She had last seen him reeling in the thick of that fight with Wilfrid. Besides, he symbolized to her the rock on which her love for Wilfrid had gone aground. She only did not hate him, because she could not help remembering that this bitterness towards Wilfrid had been due to his queer appreciation of herself. Only by fast walking, and slow thinking, did she arrive.
The door was opened to her by one who obviously bettered his declining days by letting rooms to such as he had valeted in the past. He took her up to the second floor.
‘Miss – er – Cherwell, sir.’
Tall, lean, languid, neatly dressed as ever, Jack Muskham was standing by the open window of a not unpleasant room. ‘Tea, please, Rodney.’ He came towards her, holding out his hand.
‘Like a slow-motion picture,’ thought Dinny. However surprised at her wanting to see him, he was showing no sign of it.
‘Been racing at all since I saw you at Blenheim’s Derby?’
‘No.’
‘You backed him, I remember. Clearest case of beginner’s luck I ever knew.’ His smile brought out all the wrinkles on his brown face, and Dinny perceived that there were plenty of them.
‘Do sit down. Here’s tea. Will you make it?’
She gave him his cup, took her own and said:
‘Are the Arab mares over yet, Mr Muskham?’
‘I expect them the end of next month.’
‘You have young Tony Croom to look after them.’
‘Oh! Do you know him?’
‘Through my sister.’
‘Nice boy.’
‘He is,’ said Dinny. ‘It’s about him I’ve come.’
‘Oh!’
The thought ‘He owes me too much,’ darted through her. He could not refuse her this! Leaning back and crossing her knees, she looked him full in the face.
‘I wanted to tell you, in confidence, that Jerry Corven is bringing a divorce suit against my sister, and Tony Croom is cited as the co-respondent.’
Jack Muskham moved the hand that held his cup.
‘He is in love with her, and they have been going about together, but there is no truth in the charges.’
‘I see,’ said Muskham.
‘The case is coming on quite soon. I persuaded Tony Croom to let me tell you of it; it would be so awkward for him to talk about himself.’
Muskham was looking at her with unmoved face.
‘But,’ he said, ‘I know Jerry Corven. I didn’t realize your sister had left him.’
‘We keep it to ourselves.’
‘Was her leaving him young Croom’s doing?’
‘No. They only met on the boat coming over. Clare left Jerry for quite another reason. She and Tony Croom have been indiscreet, of course; they’ve been watched and seen together in what are known, I believe, as “compromising circumstances.” ’
‘How do you mean exactly?’
‘Driving back from Oxford late one evening their lights failed and they spent the rest of the night in the car together.’
Jack Muskham raised his shoulders slightly. Dinny leaned forward with her eyes on his.
‘I told you there was no truth in the charges; there is none.’
‘But, my dear Miss Cherrell, a man never admits –’
‘That is why I came to you instead of Tony. My sister would not tell me a lie.’
Again Muskham made the slight movement of his shoulders.
‘I don’t quite see –’ he began.
‘What it has to do with you? This: I don’t suppose they’ll be believed.’
‘You mean if I just read the case it would put me off young Croom?’
‘Yes, I think you would feel he had not “played the game.” ’ She could not quite keep irony out of her voice.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘has he?’
‘I think so. He’s deeply in love with my sister, and yet he’s kept himself in hand. One can’t help falling in love, you know.’ With those words all the feelings of the past rose up within her, and she looked down so as not to see that impassive face and the provocative set of its lips. Suddenly, by a sort of inspiration, she said:
‘My brother-in-law has asked for damages.’
‘Oh!’ said Jack Muskham, ‘I didn’t know that was done now.’
‘Two thousand, and Tony Croom has nothing. He professes not to care, but if they lose, of course, it’s ruin.’