Put Out the Light by White Ethel Lina

Author:White, Ethel Lina [White, Ethel Lina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Classic, Crime, Mystery
Goodreads: 23846876
Publisher: Roy Glashan's Library
Published: 1931-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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XX. — MIRAGE

AS though she possessed a charmed life, Anthea was none the worse for her accident. It was Francis who paid the penalty of his icy dip in the lake. The morning following his trip up to town, he awoke late, with a blind headache and a high temperature.

When she heard the news, Anthea paid a visit to his bedroom. Perching herself on his bed, and swinging her small feet, she could dimly see herself in the wardrobe mirror, as a golden-haired girl, in a simple white morning dress of white Kasha cloth. The picture appealed to her vanity, so that she could not resist the temptation of nodding and smiling at her own reflection, across the room.

To Francis, who saw her at closer range, she appeared as an ancient molting yellow bird; but he was still in the benevolent mood of her rescuer. He made no protest when she insisted on unbuttoning the collar of his pyjama-jacket.

"There, that's better," she told him. "You look more like Shelley, and less of a pious choir boy."

Francis continued to look prim, in spite of his poetic bared throat.

"None the worse, Anthea?" he asked kindly.

"The better. I'm braced. I've not had a cold bath for years."

"Seen the faithful Lawrence, I suppose?" continued Francis.

"No. I've no time to be ill."

"Why—what are you so busy about?"

"I'm thinking of getting married."

He laughed at her joke, and then regarded her with faint admiration struggling through his surprise.

"You're an enigma," he said. "You ought to be dead, and you haven't turned a hair. But why this fatal passion for extinction?"

"Perhaps I want to do all a good turn."

There was mockery in her glance as she met his reproachful gaze.

"There is an old superstitious belief," he remarked, "that, if you save anyone's life, that person will do you an injury. You've struck back at me already, Anthea. I have an intermittent pulse, a galloping heart, and a high blood pressure. I diagnose incipient pneumonia."

"Oh, darling, all that because of little me? You shall stay in bed and be treated like a hero. Would you like the prettiest nurse I can procure?"

"Not on your life. I loathe ministering angels."

"Aha. The faithful heart."

Anthea was astounded and thrilled at the result of her experimental probe. Francis turned scarlet, and he glared at her in outraged fury, as though she had thrust a knife into a secret wound.

But, even while she gloated over his self-exposure, he regained his calm.

"I suppose my treatment will include a visit from the inevitable Lawrence?" he asked.

"Why not? I can afford to pay for my pleasures."

Their eyes met in a look of understanding. Then Anthea patted the sheet over his shoulder.

"I'm not forgetful of what you did, yesterday," she said quietly. "Or ungrateful."

She gave an involuntary shudder as she thought of her dream of the lions. Her fierce, intractable tiger had not taken his chance to spring. Yet, as she remembered the treachery of the broken bough, which had given way in her grasp, once again, in retrospect, her heart gave a leap of horror.

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