‘Who, the émigrés?’
‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. For
five minutes he has been trying to think of something to say. Her lover surely did not
223
understand the implications of what he had asked for and
his lust blinded him to the realities of existence even now. A pretty piece. Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the
effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and
could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. Now I shall never hear it
but what this evening will come pouring back over me. He did not like it, he said, with a
significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had
done with them. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to
protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not
see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the
vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become
her headquarters. “That’s it,”
she said. "His lordship desires me to say—ough! ough!"
Fresh groans and hisses. ‘To what do you go, mademoiselle? The life of a nun in a
convent, in a country where nuns are unwelcome. There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he
concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh
chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very
beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in
peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. ”
Her eyes were lit with humour. But he only went home again to Paddington.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 21-07-2024 12:00:12