The Adventures of Sally, P. G. Wodehouse [interesting novels in english txt] 📗

Sally perceived that the conversation had arrived at an embarrassing point. There was nothing for it but candour.

“Ginger,” she said, “you remember my telling you when we first met that I used to dance in a Broadway place? This is the place. I'm working again.”

Complete unintelligence showed itself on Ginger's every feature.

“I don't understand,” he said—unnecessarily, for his face revealed the fact.

“I've got my old job back.”

“But why?”

“Well, I had to do something.” She went on rapidly. Already a light dimly resembling the light of understanding was beginning to appear in Ginger's eyes. “Fillmore went smash, you know—it wasn't his fault, poor dear. He had the worst kind of luck—and most of my money was tied up in his business, so you see...”

She broke off confused by the look in his eyes, conscious of an absurd feeling of guilt. There was amazement in that look and a sort of incredulous horror.

“Do you mean to say...” Ginger gulped and started again. “Do you mean to tell me that you let me have... all that money... for the dog-business... when you were broke? Do you mean to say...”

Sally stole a glance at his crimson face and looked away again quickly. There was an electric silence.

“Look here,” exploded Ginger with sudden violence, “you've got to marry me. You've jolly well got to marry me! I don't mean that,” he added quickly. “I mean to say I know you're going to marry whoever you please... but won't you marry me? Sally, for God's sake have a dash at it! I've been keeping it in all this time because it seemed rather rotten to bother you about it, but now....Oh, dammit, I wish I could put it into words. I always was rotten at talking. But... well, look here, what I mean is, I know I'm not much of a chap, but it seems to me you must care for me a bit to do a thing like that for a fellow... and... I've loved you like the dickens ever since I met you... I do wish you'd have a stab at it, Sally. At least I could look after you, you know, and all that... I mean to say, work like the deuce and try to give you a good time... I'm not such an ass as to think a girl like you could ever really... er... love a blighter like me, but...”

Sally laid her hand on his.

“Ginger, dear,” she said, “I do love you. I ought to have known it all along, but I seem to be understanding myself to-night for the first time.” She got up and bent over him for a swift moment, whispering in his ear, “I shall never love anyone but you, Ginger. Will you try to remember that.” She was moving away, but he caught at her arm and stopped her.

“Sally...”

She pulled her arm away, her face working as she fought against the tears that would not keep back.

“I've made a fool of myself,” she said. “Ginger, your cousin... Mr. Carmyle... just now he asked me to marry him, and I said I would.”

She was gone, flitting among the tables like some wild creature running to its home: and Ginger, motionless, watched her go.

5

The telephone-bell in Sally's little sitting-room was ringing jerkily as she let herself in at the front door. She guessed who it was at the other end of the wire, and the noise of the bell sounded to her like the voice of a friend in distress crying for help. Without stopping to close the door, she ran to the table and unhooked the receiver. Muffled, plaintive sounds were coming over the wire.

“Hullo... Hullo... I say... Hullo...”

“Hullo, Ginger,” said Sally quietly.

An ejaculation that was half a shout and half gurgle answered her.

“Sally! Is that you?”

“Yes, here I am, Ginger.”

“I've been trying to get you for ages.”

“I've only just come in. I walked home.”

There was a pause.

“Hullo.”

“Yes?”

“Well, I mean...” Ginger seemed to be finding his usual difficulty in expressing himself. “About that, you know. What you said.”

“Yes?” said Sally, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“You said...” Again Ginger's vocabulary failed him. “You said you loved me.”

“Yes,” said Sally simply.

Another odd sound floated over the wire, and there was a moment of silence before Ginger found himself able to resume.

“I... I... Well, we can talk about that when we meet. I mean, it's no good trying to say what I think over the 'phone, I'm sort of knocked out. I never dreamed... But, I say, what did you mean about Bruce?”

“I told you, I told you.” Sally's face was twisted and the receiver shook in her hand. “I've made a fool of myself. I never realized... And now it's too late.”

“Good God!” Ginger's voice rose in a sharp wail. “You can't mean you really... You don't seriously intend to marry the man?”

“I must. I've promised.”

“But, good heavens...”

“It's no good. I must.”

“But the man's a blighter!”

“I can't break my word.”

“I never heard such rot,” said Ginger vehemently. “Of course you can. A girl isn't expected...”

“I can't, Ginger dear, I really can't.”

“But look here...”

“It's really no good talking about it any more, really it isn't... Where are you staying to-night?”

“Staying? Me? At the Plaza. But look here...”

Sally found herself laughing weakly.

“At the Plaza! Oh, Ginger, you really do want somebody to look after you. Squandering your pennies like that... Well, don't talk any more now. It's so late and I'm so tired. I'll come and see you to-morrow. Good night.”

She hung up the receiver quickly, to cut short a fresh outburst of protest. And as she turned away a voice spoke behind her.

“Sally!”

Gerald Foster was standing in the doorway.