I've heard him praying aloud to them on more
than one occasion, and I've also a shrewd idea he performs, at least,
some of his spells by means of wax images. But why do you want to
know?"
"Only curiosity. I am intensely interested in the occult."
"You don't want to start a rival show, do you?" Lilian asked
jestingly.
"With a maximum capital of two pounds--and a minimum of knowledge!"
Shiel laughed. "Hardly. I wish I could. I would offer you the post of
manageress."
"Partner!"
"Well, partner, if you like. Would you take it?"
"Perhaps!" she said, looking at him with a sudden shyness. "What a
pity you are not rich. Can't you get a post that would bring you in
about L200 a year for a start? I believe you really want something to
stimulate you, to make you work in grim earnest--then you would
succeed. There's grit in you--I love grit--but at present it's latent,
it wants bringing out."
"You are very kind," Shiel said, "but I'm afraid I'm a hopeless case,
and, being such, have no business to be in your company. Will you come
to the theatre with me?"
"The theatre! When you've no business to be in my company, and when it
is as much as you can do to pay the rent of a back attic!"
"Oh, never mind that. I've had tickets given me. I've been doing odd
bits of journalism lately, and a dramatic critic I know has given me
two stalls at the Imperial!"
"The Imperial!" Lilian Rosenberg ejaculated.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293