The meditative expression with which Lucinda put the telephone aside drew from Bellamy the direct question: What had f.a.n.n.y said?
"It wasn't what she said, it was the funny, embarra.s.sed way she said it.
As a general thing, f.a.n.n.y's as transparently candid as--as a plate of gla.s.s."
Bellamy made a doubting mouth. "You're pretty thick, you two," he supposed--"you tell her everything?"
Irritation in a gust shook Lucinda till her voice shook in sympathy.
"Really, Bel! you seem fairly possessed by desire to believe my life out here full of things an honest woman would want to hide."
"No," Bellamy dissented slowly. "But I do seriously believe--in fact, know--you haven't always been altogether discreet, you've done things here, without a moment's thought, you'd have hesitated a long time before committing yourself to at home."
"You forget this is now my home. What Fifth Avenue holds inconvenable isn't anything to bother about on Sunset Boulevard."
"Well ... if life has taught me anything, Linda, it is that it never does to trust too much to the good will of one's friends. We're all too exclusively creatures of selfishness: self always comes before the claims others may have or impose on us. It pleases us no end to believe our friends so devoted that they'd put our interests before their own; but when the test comes, as a general thing, we find out we've been self-deluded."
"How funny, Bel: _you_ philosophizing!"
"That isn't philosophy, it's common sense based on observation of the underside of human nature.... I'm not blaming you for clinging to your friends, or standing up for them, I'm only anxious you shan't suffer from finding them out."
"I fancy I know f.a.n.n.y, at least," Lucinda retorted severely.
"You think you do. And I don't dispute your superior knowledge of every side of her but one, the side she shows only to the men she picks out to flirt with."
"For example, yourself."
"Exactly."
Lucinda openly enjoyed an instant of malicious amus.e.m.e.nt. "Do you really believe you're learning to see through women at last, Bel?"
"You'll admit I've served a long apprenticeship"--Bellamy gave a deprecating grunt--"enough to have learned something."
"And now you're warning me against the wiles of my best friend!"
"I'm warning you against all such adventurers.... Oh, yes! the Lontaines are just that, both of them. Chances are they haven't got a dollar between them they didn't get from you. Neither did Mrs. f.a.n.n.y set her cap for me just to keep in practice, she gets enough of that in other quarters. No: she had another motive, and it wasn't any way altruistic."
"What was it, then?"
"Think I can leave that to your intelligence. I've never noticed you were--one might say--dense concerning the psychology of your s.e.x, Linda."
Indignation threatened to find expression in a rush of tears, but Lucinda winked them back.
"I do wish you wouldn't try to make me angry with you----"
"I'm only trying to tell you, one can't afford to trust anybody in this world except those who have nothing to gain through cultivating one's friendship."
"--Just now, when I've so much to be grateful to you for, when you're doing--have done so much to save me from the consequences of my folly----"
"Ah! you realize that."
"Both my folly"--Lucinda nodded gravely--"and all you're doing to repair it. So this once I won't resent your calling my friends adventurers."
Bel chuckled as he got up. "Because you know in your heart that's what they are, neither more nor less.... Think I'll be getting along now. I want sleep badly, and I must stop in at the studio first and have a word with Lontaine, if he's there. And then I need Nolan's address."
"You're going to see him. Do you think that wise?"
"I won't permit him to spread gossip about your being with Summerlad last night."
"Do you think he'll admit your right to dictate?"
"I don't imagine it will be news to him that you're my wife, if that's what you mean. Your friend the actor seems to have been tolerably busy crowing about his conquest of Mrs. Bellamy Druce--always, of course, in strictest confidence. Zinn knew all about you before I appeared on the scene. And Nolan was Summerlad's bosom pal...."
The thrust told shrewdly, rewarding Bel with a fugitive moment of sardonic satisfaction. Then the courage with which Lucinda took punishment exacted his admiration.
"But I'm afraid," she said quietly, "you won't have much success with Nolan, even if he does recognize your right to interfere."
"How so?"
"He has too little reason to feel well-disposed toward me."
"On account of your quarrel with him yesterday...."
"I didn't know you knew."
"Who in Hollywood doesn't, do you suppose?" Bel snorted. "Gossip travels like gra.s.s fire, out here. I heard five different versions yesterday, myself, before your cameraman told mine what I imagine was the approximate truth."
"Then I presume you know, as well, about my new arrangement, with Mr.
Zinn taking over the production?"
"Yes?"
The single syllable of a.s.sent carried the rising inflexion of enquiry as well. Lucinda mildly curious, replied that she had merely been wondering....
"Well, I'm wondering, too," Bel countered, eyeing her intently. "Of course you understand that arrangement's not necessarily to be considered binding till you've signed up."
"We shook hands on it," said Lucinda: "I gave Mr. Zinn my word. Why?"
"Oh, nothing; unless what's happened since has had some effect on your att.i.tude, I mean, made your bargain with Zinn seem less desirable. In that case, of course, I'll be glad to use whatever influence I may have with him...."
The tensing of her body betrayed the temper in which Lucinda met his suggestion. "What you really mean is: Have I changed my mind about continuing in pictures, because of this dreadful accident to Lynn?"
Bel's eyes and mouth tightened. "It's not an unnatural supposition, that you may have concluded you've had enough."
"Enough, Bel?"
"Of both...."
"That can't be anything but calculated impertinence!"