Part 50 (2/2)

Far to Seek Maud Diver 25670K 2022-07-22

”I've never noticed it.”

”How long have you known him?”

”A trifle of fifteen years.”

”Quite a romantic friends.h.i.+p?”

Roy nodded. He did not choose to discuss his feeling for Lance with this cool, compelling young woman. Yet her very coolness goaded him to add: ”I suppose men see more clearly than women that--he's one in a thousand.”

”I'm--not so sure----”

”Yet you snub him as if he was a tin-pot 'sub.'”

His resentment would out; but the smile in her eyes disarmed him.

”Was it as bad as that? What a pair you are! Don't worry. We know each other's little ways by now.”

It was scarcely convincing; but Lance would not thank him for interfering; and the band had struck up. No sign of a partner. It seemed the luck was 'in'.

”Did Desmond give you my message?” he asked.

”No--what?”

”Only--that I hoped you'd be magnanimous.... Is there a chance----?”

Her eyes rested deliberately on his; and the last spark of resentment flickered out. ”More than you deserve! But this one does happen to be free....”

”Well, we won't waste any of it,” said he:--and they danced without a break, without a word, till the perfect accord of their circling and swaying ceased with the last notes of the valse.

That was the real thing, thought Roy, but felt too shy for compliments; and they merely exchanged a smile. He had felt the pleasure was mutual.

Now he knew it.

Out through the portico they pa.s.sed into the cool green gardens, freshly watered, exhaling a smell of moist earth and the fragrance of unnumbered roses--a very whiff of Home: bushes, standards, ramblers; and everywhere--flaunting its supremacy--the Marechal Niel; sprawling over hedges, scrambling up evergreens and falling again, in cascades of moon-yellow blossoms and glossy leaves.

Roy, keenly alive to the exquisite mingling of scent and colour and evening lights--was still more alive to the silent girl at his side, who seemed to radiate both the lure and the subtle antagonism of s.e.x--in itself an inverted form of fascination.

They had strolled half round the empty bandstand before she remarked, in her cool, low-pitched voice: ”You really are a flagrantly casual person, Mr Sinclair. I sometimes wonder--is it _quite_ spontaneous? Or--do you find it effective?”

Roy frankly turned and stared at her. ”Effective? _What_ a question?”

Her smile puzzled and disconcerted him.

”Well, you've answered it with your usual pristine frankness! I see--it was not intentional.”

”Why should it be?”

”Oh, if you don't know--I don't! I merely wondered--You did say definitely you would come to the reception. So of course--I expected you. Then you never turned up. And--naturally----!”

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