The Avalanche by Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton (ink book reader txt) 📖

About Historical Accuracy."

 

"How Would You Like This For The Touch Of Pink!" He Took The Immense Ruby

From His Pocket And Tossed It Into Her Lap.

 

For A Moment She Stared At It With Expanding Eyes, Then Gave A

Little Shriek Of Rapture And Flung Herself Into His Arms, The Child

He Had Married.

 

"Is It True? But True? Shall I Wear This Wonderful Thing? The Women Will

Die Of Jealousy. I Shall Feel Like An Empress--But More, More, I Shall

Wear This Lovely Thing--I, I, Helene Ruyler, Born Perrin, Who Never Had A

Franc In Her Pocket In Rouen! Price! Have You Changed Your Mind--But No!

I Cannot Believe It."

 

That Was It Then! He Watched Her Mobile Face Sharply. It Expressed

Nothing But The Excited Rapture Of A Very Young Woman Over A Magnificent

Toy. There Was None Of The Morbid Feverish Passion He Had Dreadfully

Anticipated. His Spirits Felt Lighter, Although He Sighed That A Bauble,

Even If It Were One Of The Finest Of Its Kind In The World, Should Have

Projected Its Sinister Shadow Between Them. It Had A Wicked History. But

Helene Saw No Shadows. She Held It Up To The Light, Peered Into It As It

Lay Half Concealed In The Cup Of Her Slender White Hands, Fondled It

Against Her Cheek, Hung The Chain About Her Neck.

 

"How I Have Dreamed Of It," She Murmured. "How Did You Come To Change

Your Mind?"

 

"I Thought It A Pity Such A Fine Jewel Should Live Forever In A Safe; And

It Will Become You Above All Women. Nature Must Have Had You In Her Eye

When She Designed The Ruby. I Had A Sudden Vision ... And Made Up My Mind

That You Should Wear It The First Time I Was Able To Take You To A Party.

I Must Keep The Letter Of My Promise."

 

"And I Can Only Wear It When You Are With Me?"

 

"I Am Afraid So."

 

"I'm You, If There Is Anything In The Marriage Ceremony." Then She Kissed

Him Impulsively. "But I Won't Be A Little Pig. And I Can Tell Everybody

Between Now And The Thornton Fete That I Am Going To Wear It, And I Can

Think And Dream Of My Triumph Meanwhile. But Why Didn't You Let Me Know

You Were Down? It Is Sunday, Our Only Day. I Overslept Shockingly. I

Didn't Get Home Till Two."

 

"Two? Do You Dance Until Two Every Night?"

 

"What Else? They Lead Such A Purposeless Life Out Here. We Sometimes Have

Classes--But They Don't Last Long. I Have Almost Forgotten That I Once

Had A Serious Mind. But What Would You? It Is Either Society Or Suffrage.

I Won't Be As Serious As That Yet. I Mean To Be Young--But Young! For

Five More Years. Then I Shall Become A 'Leader,' Or Vote For The

President, Or Ride On A Float In A Suffrage Parade Dressed As The Goddess

Of Liberty, With My Hair Down."

 

He Laughed, More And More Relieved. "Yes, Please Remain Young Until You

Are Twenty-Five. By That Time I Hope The World Will Have Adjusted Itself

And I Shall Have The Leisure To Companion You. Meanwhile, Be A Child. It

Is Very Refreshing To Me. Come. I Must Lock This Thing Up. I Have An

Interview Here With Spaulding In About Ten Minutes."

 

She Gave It Up Reluctantly, Kissing It Much As She Had Kissed Him During

Their Engagement; Warm, Lingering, But Almost Impersonal Kisses. The Ruby

Seemed Miraculously To Have Restored Her Beaten Youth.

 

She Sat On The Edge Of A Chair As He Opened The Safe And Placed The Jewel

In Its Box And Drawer.

 

"There Is One Other Thing I Wanted To Ask," He Said As He Rose. "Is Your

Allowance Sufficient? It Has Sometimes Occurred To Me That You Wanted

More--For Some Feminine Extravagance."

 

The Light Went Out Of Her Face. He Wondered Whimsically If He Had Locked

It In With The Ruby, And Once More He Was Conscious That Something

Intangible Floated Between Them. But She Looked At Him Squarely With Her

Shadowed Eyes.

 

"Oh, One Could Spend Any Amount, Of Course, But I Really Have

Quite Enough."

 

"You Shall Have Double Your Present Allowance When These Cursed Times

Improve. And I Have Always Intended To Settle A Couple Of Hundred

Thousand On You--A Quarter Of A Million--As Soon As I Could Realize

Without Loss On Certain Investments. But One Day I Want You To Be Quite

Independent."

 

Her Eyes Had Opened Very Wide. "A Quarter Of A Million? And It Would Be

All My Own? I Could Do Anything With It I Liked?"

 

"Well--I Think I Should Put It In Trust. I Haven't Much Faith In The

Resistance Of Your Sex To Tempting Investments Promising A High Rate Of

Interest."

 

"I Have Heard You Say That When Rich Men Die The Amount Of Worthless

Stock Found In Their Safe Deposit Boxes Passes Belief."

 

"Quite True. But That Is Hardly An Argument In Favor Of Trusting An Even

More Inexperienced Sex With Large Sums Of Money."

 

She Laughed, But Less Naturally Than When He Had Been Seized With An

Unwonted Spasm Of Jealousy. "You Will Always Get The Best Of Me In An

Argument," She Said With Her Exquisite Politeness. "Really, I Think I

Love Being Wholly Dependent Upon You. Here Comes Your Detective. What

A Bore. But At Least We Lunch Together If We Do Have Company. And

Thank You, Thank You A Thousand Times For Promising I Shall Wear The

Ruby At Last."

 

She Slipped Her Hand Into His For A Second, Then Left The Room, Smiling

Over Her Shoulder, As The Locally Celebrated "Jake" Spaulding Entered.

Both Ruyler And His General Manager Had Thought It Best To Have Their

Cashier Watched. There Were Rumors Of Gambling And Other Road House

Diversions, And They Proposed To Save Their Man To The Firm, If Possible;

If Not, To Discharge Him Before He Followed The Usual Course And Involved

Ruyler And Sons In The Loss Of Thousands They Could Ill Afford To Spare.

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

I

 

On The Following Day Ruyler, Who Had Looked Upon The Whirlwind Of Passion

That Had Swept Him Into A Romantic And Unworldly Marriage, As Likely To

Remain The One Brief Drama Of His Prosaic Business Man's Life, Began

Dimly To Apprehend That He Was Hovering On The Edge Of A Sinister And

Complicated Drama Whose End He Could As Little Foresee As He Could Escape

From The Hand Of Fate That Was Pushing Him Inexorably Forward. When Fate

Suddenly Begins To Take A Dramatic Interest In A Man Whose Course Has Run

Like A Yacht Before A Strong Breeze, She Precipitates Him Toward One Half

Crisis After Another In Order To Confuse His Mental Powers And Render Him

Wholly A Puppet For The Final Act. These Little Earth Histrionics Are

Arranged No Doubt For The Weary Gods, Who Hardly Brook A Mere Mortal

Rising Triumphantly Above The Malignant Moods Of The Master Playwright.

 

He Lunched At The Pacific Union Club And Caught The Down-Town California

Street Cable Car As It Passed, Finding His Favorite Seat On The Left Side

Of The "Dummy" Unoccupied. He Was Thinking Of Helene, A Little

Disappointed, But On The Whole Vastly Relieved, Congratulating Himself

That, No Longer Haunted, He Could Give His Mind Wholly To The Important

Question Of The Merger He Contemplated With A Rival House That Had Limped

Along Since The Disaster, But Had At Last Manifested Its Willingness To

Accept The Offer Of Ruyler And Sons.

 

It Was A Moment Before He Realized That His Mother-In-Law Occupied The

Front Seat Across The Narrow Space, And Even Before He Recognized That

Large Bulk, He Had Registered Something Rigid And Tense In Its Muscles;

Strained In Its Attitude. When He Raised His Eyes To The Face He Found

Himself Looking At The Right Cheek Instead Of The Left, And It Was

Pervaded By A Sickly Green Tint Quite Unlike Madame Delano's Florid

Color. She Was Listening To A Man Who Sat Just Behind Her On The Long

Seat That Ran The Length Of The Dummy. Although The Day Was Clear, There

Was Still A Sharp Wind And No One Else Sat Outside.

 

Ruyler Knew The Man By Sight. Before The Fire He Had Owned Some Of The

Most Disreputable Houses In The District The Car Would Pass On Its Way To

The Terminus. The Buildings Were Uninsured, And He Had Made His Living

Since As A Detective. Even His Political Breed Had Gone Out Of Power In

The New San Francisco, But He Was Well Equipped For A Certain Type Of

Detective Work. He Had A Remarkable Memory For Faces And Could Pierce Any

Disguise, He Was As Persistent As A Ferret, And His Knowledge Of The

Underworld Of San Francisco Was Illimitable. But His Chief Assets Were

That He Looked So Little Like A Detective, And That, So Secretive Were

His Methods, His Calling Was Practically Unknown. He Had Set Up A Cheap

Restaurant With A Gambling Room Behind At Which The Police Winked,

Although Pretending To Raid Him Now And Again. He Was A Large Soft Man

With Pendulous Cheeks Streaked With Red, A Predatory Nose, And A Black

Overhanging Mustache. His Name Was 'Gene Bisbee, And There Was A

Tradition That In His Younger Days He Had Been Handsome, And Irresistible

To The Women Who Had Made His Fortune.

 

Ruyler Was Absently Wondering What His Haughty Mother-In-Law Could Have

To Say To Such A Man When To His Amazement Bisbee Planted His Elbow In

The Pillow Of Flesh Just Below Madame Delano's Neck, And Said Easily:

 

"Oh, Come Off, Marie. I'd Know You If You Were Twenty Years Older And

Fifty Pounds Heavier--And That's Going Some. Bimmer And Two Or Three

Others Are Not So Sure--Won't Bet On It--For Twenty Years, And, Let Me

See--You Weighed About A Hundred And Thirty-Five--Perfect Figger--In The

Old Days. Must Weigh Two Seventy-Five Now. That Makes One Forty-Five

Pounds Extra. Well, That And Time, And White Hair, Would Change Pretty

Near Any Woman, Particularly One With Small Features. You Look A Real Old

Lady, And You Can't Be Mor'n Forty-Five. How Did You Manage The White

Hair? Bleach?"

 

Ruyler Felt His Heart Turn Over. The Frozen Blood Pounded In His Brain

And Distended His Own Muscles, His Mouth Unclosed To Let His Breath

Escape. Then He Became Aware That The Woman Had Recovered Herself And

Moved Forward, Displacing The Familiar Elbow. She Turned Imperiously To

The Motorman.

 

"Stop At The Corner," She Said. "And If This Man Attempts To Follow Me

Please Send Back A Policeman. He Is Intoxicated."

 

The Car Stopped At The Corner Of The Street Opposite The Site Of The

Old Saint Mary's Cathedral, A Street Where Once Had Been That Row Of

Small And Evil Cottages Where French Women, Painted, Scantily Dressed

In A Travesty Of The Evening Gown, Called To The Passer-By Through The

Slats Of Old-Fashioned Green Shutters. That Had Been Before Ruyler's

Day, But He Knew The History Of The Neighborhood, And This Man's

Interest In It. He Was Not Surprised To Hear Bisbee Laugh Aloud As

Madame Delano, Who Stepped Off The Car With Astonishing Agility,

Waddled Down The Now Respectable Street. But She Held Her Head

Majestically And Did Not Look Back.

 

Ruyler Squared His Back Lest The Man, Glancing Over, Recognize Him. That

Would Be More Than He Could Bear. As The Car Reached Front Street He

Sprang From The Dummy And Walked Rapidly North To Ruyler And Sons. He

Locked Himself In His Private Office, Dismissing His Stenographer With

The Excuse That He Had Important Business To Think Out And Must Not Be

Disturbed.

 

 

Ii

 

But Business Was Forgotten. He Was As Nearly In A State Of Panic As Was

Possible For A Man Of His Inheritance And Ordered Life. He Belonged To

That Class Of New Yorker That Looked With Cold Disgust Upon The Women Of

Commerce. So Far As He Knew He Had Never Exchanged A Word With One Of

Them, And Had Often Listened With Impatience To The Reminiscences Of His

San Francisco Friends, Now Married And At Least Intermittently Decent, Of

The Famous Ladies Who Once Had Reigned In The Gay Night Life Of San

Francisco.

 

And