Page:The strange experiences of Tina Malone.djvu/33

Rh "But I'm your friend too. I thought I was a great friend."

"You shall not enter my flat till you send me a written apology."

"Very well, you'll never get that." I felt in a fury now. Such idiotic nonsense as a written apology for a letter that had been written merely to make up a quarrel!

"Don't be silly, Naomi," I said crumpling up and laughing again. It was so absurdly melodramatic.

But there was no glimmer of a smile on her face, nor a sign of unbending.

"You send me a written apology or I shall send your letter to the Occult School."

"I have a copy of it," I said, "that I had scribbled off first and there's nothing in it to offend you."

"A written apology or you don't enter this flat again and I'll send your letter to the Occult School," she repeated.

"Very well, then, if you choose to take it that way. I'll take it to a legal friend of mine and ask him what he thinks of it."

I flounced round and went up to my own rooms, too angry at first to feel any wonder at such a storm in a tea-cup.

But from that time her doors were shut against me not only metaphorically, but literally. She locked them and kept them locked in case I should try to go to see her, and spoke to me through them if I tried.

Just once I did try.

I was sitting upstairs all alone one evening watching the sunset and I somehow thought how silly the whole thing had been. I looked round to see what I had for tea and only found sardines.

Of course the opener broke before the thing peeled off—they always do especially on Saturday afternoons.

I thought I would kill two birds with one stone.

I glanced at the Priestess' rooms. They were dark. She had gone to her Occult Lodge meeting.

I ran down to the back steps outside Naomi's back door and knocked.

"Who's there?" came from within.

"It's me," I said, "Naomi, let me in will you?"

"I can't let you in, I'm undressing," said she.

I laughed.

"Have you got a tin-opener?"

"No, I have not," she said.

I stared at the locked door before me and sat on in silence kicking my foot against the wooden step.

"Haven't you really?"

"Yes, I have one somewhere but I can't find it now."

"Oh, Naomi, why not comedy and not tragedy?" said I.