Bealby; A Holiday. Герберт УÑллÑ
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Bealby; A Holiday - Герберт УÑÐ»Ð»Ñ страница 15
Название: Bealby; A Holiday
Автор: Герберт УÑллÑ
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4057664647696
isbn:
Bealby scarcely hesitated. “Dick Mal-travers, Mum,” he said and almost added, “The Dauntless Daredevil of the Diamond-fields Horse,” which was the second title.
“Dick will do,” said the lady who was called Judy, and added suddenly and very amusingly: “You may keep the rest.”
(These were the sort of people Bealby liked. The right sort.)
“Well, Dick, we want to know, have you ever been in service?”
It was sudden. But Bealby was equal to it. “Only for a day or two, miss—I mean, Mum—just to be useful.”
“Were you useful?”
Bealby tried to think whether he had been, and could recall nothing but the face of Thomas with the fork hanging from it. “I did my best, Mum,” he said impartially.
“And all that is over?”
“Yes, Mum.”
“And you’re at home again and out of employment?”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Do you live near here?”
“No—leastways, not very far.”
“With your father.”
“Stepfather, Mum. I’m a Norfan.”
“Well, how would you like to come with us for a few days and help with things? Seven-and-sixpence a week.”
Bealby’s face was eloquent.
“Would your stepfather object?”
Bealby considered. “I don’t think he would,” he said.
“You’d better go round and ask him.”
“I—suppose—yes,” he said.
“And get a few things.”
“Things, Mum?”
“Collars and things. You needn’t bring a great box for such a little while.”
“Yes, Mum. …”
He hovered rather undecidedly.
“Better run along now. Our man and horse will be coming presently. We shan’t be able to wait for you long. …”
Bealby assumed a sudden briskness and departed.
At the gate of the field he hesitated almost imperceptibly and then directed his face to the Sabbath stillness of the village.
Perplexity corrugated his features. The stepfather’s permission presented no difficulties, but it was more difficult about the luggage.
A voice called after him.
“Yes, Mum?” he said attentive and hopeful. Perhaps—somehow—they wouldn’t want luggage.
“You’ll want Boots. You’ll have to walk by the caravan, you know. You’ll want some good stout Boots.”
“All right, Mum,” he said with a sorrowful break in his voice. He waited a few moments but nothing more came. He went on—very slowly. He had forgotten about the boots.
That defeated him. …
It is hard to be refused admission to Paradise for the want of a hand-bag and a pair of walking-boots. …
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.