Theatre Page 0,77
and it's convenient having him round the corner when I want someone to play golf with me. It's only twenty-five pounds a quarter."
"You're the last person I should expect to see indulge in indiscriminate generosity."
"Oh, don't you be afraid, if I lose on the swings I'll get back on the roundabouts."
The masseuse came in and put an end to the conversation. Julia was thankful that it would soon be time to go down to the theatre and so put an end for a while to the misery of that long day; when she got back she would take a sleeping-draught again and so get some hours of forgetfulness. She had a notion that in a few days the worst of her pain would be over; the important thing was to get through them as best she could. She must distract her mind. When she left for the theatre she told the butler to ring up Charles Tamerley and see if she could lunch with him at the Ritz next day.
He was extraordinarily nice at luncheon. His look, his manner bespoke the different world he lived in, and she felt a sudden abhorrence for the circle in which on Tom's account she had moved during the last year. He spoke of politics, of art, of books; and peace entered into her soul. Tom had been an obsession and she saw now that it had been hurtful; but she would escape from it. Her spirits rose. She did not want to be alone, she knew that even though she went home after luncheon she would not sleep, so she asked Charles if he would take her to the National Gallery. She could give him no greater pleasure; he liked to talk about pictures and he talked of them well. It took them back to the old days when she had made her first success in London and they used to spend so many afternoons together, walking in the park or sauntering through museums. The day after that she had a matinee and the next a luncheon-party, but when they separated they arranged to lunch again together on the Friday and go to the Tate.
A few days later Michael told her he had engaged Avice Crichton.
"She has the looks for the part, there's no doubt about that, and she'll be a good contrast to you. I'm taking her acting on the strength of what you said."
Next morning they rang through from the basement to say that Mr. Fennell was on the telephone. It seemed to her that her heart stopped beating.
"Put him through."
"Julia, I wanted to tell you, Michael has engaged Avice."
"Yes, I know."
"He told her he was engaging her on what you'd told him. You are a brick."
Julia, her heart now beating nineteen to the dozen, made an effort to control her voice.
"Oh, don't talk such nonsense," she answered gaily. "I told you it would be all right."
"I'm awfully glad it's fixed up. She's accepted the part on what I've told her about it. Ordinarily she won't take anything unless she's read the play."
It was just as well he could not see Julia's face when she heard him say this. She would have liked to answer tartly that it was not their habit when they engaged small-part actresses to let them read the play, but instead she said mildly:
"Well, I think she'll like it, don't you? It's quite a good part."
"And you know, she'll play it for all it's worth. I believe she'll make a sensation."
Julia took a long breath.
"It'll be wonderful, won't it? I mean, it may make her."
"Yes, I've told her that. I say, when am I going to see you again?"
"I'll phone you, shall I? It's such a bore, I'm terribly full of engagements for the next few days."
"You're not going to drop me just because?
She gave a low, rather hoarse chuckle, that chuckle which so delighted audiences.
"Don't be so silly. Oh lord, there's my bath running. I must go and have it. Good-bye, my sweet."
She put down the receiver. The sound of his voice! The pain in her heart was unendurable. Sitting up in her bed she rocked to and fro in an agony.
"What shall I do? What shall I do?"
She had thought she was getting over it, and now that brief, silly conversation had shown her that she loved him as much as ever. She wanted him. She missed him every minute of the day. She could not do without him.
"I shall never get over