Название: The Keeper of the Door
Автор: Ethel M. Dell
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066243265
isbn:
"I am not going to give it to anyone," Olga said rather shortly.
"Pardon!" said Max, holding out his hand. "I should like to sample Miss
Campion's taste in literature."
She drew back, but his hand remained outstretched. After a moment, reluctantly, she surrendered the book. He took it, and began to turn the pages.
"Nothing ever shocks a medical man," observed Violet. "He is inured to the worst. Come along, dear! This place is like a vault. Let us get into the sunshine and leave him to wallow till tea appears."
They went out together to Olga's immense relief, and spent the next ten minutes in playing with the motor, in the driving of which Violet had lately developed a keen interest.
When they returned, the book had disappeared and the incident was apparently forgotten. They had tea to the accompaniment of much light-hearted chatter on the parts of Violet and Max Wyndham. Colonel Campion sat in heavy silence, and Olga instinctively held aloof. There was something in Max's attitude that puzzled her, but it was something so intangible that she could not even vaguely define it to herself. All his careless banter notwithstanding, she was fully convinced in her own mind that he was not in the smallest degree dazzled or so much as attracted by the brilliant beauty that so dominated her own imagination. Though he laughed and joked in his customary cynical strain, she had a feeling that his mental energies were actually employed elsewhere. He was like a man watching behind a mask. Watching—for what?
Suddenly she remembered again the tragedy she had witnessed in the glen that afternoon, and her heart recoiled.
Was it the atmosphere of the place that made her morbid? Or was there indeed some evil influence at work in her friend's life which she by her headlong action had somehow rendered active?
Before they left the Priory, she had begun to repent almost passionately the impulse that had taken her thither. But wherefore she thus repented she could not have explained.
CHAPTER V
THE CHAPERON
"It's very kind of Olga to provide us with distractions," said Nick, as he dropped into an arm-chair, with a cigar, "but I almost think we are better off without them. If I see much of that girl, it will upset my internal economy. Is she real by any chance?"
"Haven't you ever seen her before?" asked Max.
"Several times, but never for long together. Jove! What a face she has!" He turned his head sharply, and looked up at Max who stood on the hearth-rug. "You're not wildly enthusiastic over her anyhow," he observed. "Are you really indifferent or only pretending?"
"I?" The corners of Max's mouth went down. He stuffed his pipe into one of them and said no more.
Nick continued to regard him with interest for some seconds. Suddenly he laughed. "Do you know, Wyndham," he said, "I should awfully like to give you a word of advice?"
"What on?" Max did not sound particularly encouraging. He proceeded to light his pipe with exceeding deliberation. He despised cigars.
Nick closed his eyes. "In my capacity of chaperon," he said. "It's a beastly difficult position by the way. I'm weighed down by responsibility."
"So I've noticed," remarked Max drily.
"Well, you haven't done much to lighten the burden," said Nick. "I suppose you haven't realized yet that I am one of the gods that control your destiny."
"Well, no; I hadn't." Max leaned against the mantelpiece and smoked, with his face to the ceiling. "I knew you were a species of deity of course. I've been told that several times. And I humbly beg to offer you my sympathy."
"Thanks!" Nick's eyes flashed open as if at the pulling of a string. "If it isn't an empty phrase, I value it."
"I don't deal in empty phrases as a rule," said Max.
"Quite so. Only with a definite end in view? I hold that no one should ever do or say anything without a purpose."
"So do I," said Max.
Nick's eyes flickered over him and closed again. "Then, my dear chap," he said, "why in Heaven's name make yourself so damned unpleasant?"
"So what?" said Max.
"What I said." Coolly Nick made answer. "It's not an empty phrase," he added. "You will find a meaning attached if you deign to give it the benefit of your august consideration."
Max uttered a grim, unwilling laugh. "I suppose you are privileged to say what you like," he said.
"I observe certain limits," said Nick.
"And you never make mistakes?"
"Oh, yes, occasionally. Not often. You see, I'm too well-meaning to go far astray," said Nick, with becoming modesty. "You must remember that I'm well-meaning, Wyndham. It accounts for a good many little eccentricities. I think you were quite right to make her extract that needle. I should have done it myself. But you are not so wise in resenting her refusal to kiss the place and make it well. I speak from the point of view of the chaperon, remember."
"Who told you anything about a needle?" demanded Max, suddenly turning brick-red..
"That's my affair," said Nick.
"And mine!"
"No, pardon me, not yours!" Again his eyes took a leaping glance at his companion.
Doggedly Max faced it. "Did she tell you?"
"Who?" said Nick.
"Olga." He flung the name with half-suppressed resentment. His attitude in that moment was aggressively British. He looked as he had looked to Olga that afternoon, undeniably formidable.
But Nick remained unimpressed. "I shan't answer that question," he said.
"You needn't," said Max grimly.
"That's why," said Nick.
"Oh! I see." Max's eyes searched him narrowly for a moment, then returned to the ceiling. "Does she think I'm in love with her?" he asked rather curtly.
"Well, scarcely. I shouldn't let her think that at present if I were you. In my opinion any extremes are inadvisable at this stage."
"I suppose you know I am going to marry her?" said Max.
"Yes, I've divined that."
"And you approve?"
"I submit to the inevitable," said Nick with a sigh.
Max smiled, the smile of a man who faces considerable odds with complete confidence. "She doesn't—at present."
Nick's СКАЧАТЬ