按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
blossom； and the birds of the air come to drink and bathe themselves in its
crystal waters。。。' Ah； and that reminds me；〃 Priscilla exclaimed； shutting
the book with a clap and uttering her big profound laugh〃that reminds
me of the things that have been going on in our bathing…pool since you
were here last。 We gave the village people leave to come and bathe here
in the evenings。 You've no idea of the things that happened。〃
She leaned forward； speaking in a confidential whisper； every now and
then she uttered a deep gurgle of laughter。 〃。。。mixed bathing。。。saw them
out of my window。。。sent for a pair of field… glasses to make sure。。。no doubt
of it。。。〃 The laughter broke out again。 Denis laughed too。 Barbecue…
Smith was tossed on the floor。
It's time we went to see if tea's ready；〃 said Priscilla。 She hoisted
herself up from the sofa and went swishing off across the room； striding
beneath the trailing silk。 Denis followed her； faintly humming to
himself：
〃That's why I'm going to Sing in op'ra； sing in op'ra； Sing in op…pop…
pop…pop…popera。〃
And then the little twiddly bit of accompaniment at the end： 〃ra…ra。〃
10
… Page 11…
CROME YELLOW
CHAPTER III。
The terrace in front of the house was a long narrow strip of turf；
bounded along its outer edge by a graceful stone balustrade。 Two little
summer…houses of brick stood at either end。 Below the house the ground
sloped very steeply away； and the terrace was a remarkably high one； from
the balusters to the sloping lawn beneath was a drop of thirty feet。 Seen
from below； the high unbroken terrace wall； built like the house itself of
brick； had the almost menacing aspect of a fortificationa castle bastion；
from whose parapet one looked out across airy depths to distances level
with the eye。 Below； in the foreground； hedged in by solid masses of
sculptured yew trees； lay the stone…brimmed swimming…pool。 Beyond it
stretched the park； with its massive elms； its green expanses of grass； and；
at the bottom of the valley； the gleam of the narrow river。 On the farther
side of the stream the land rose again in a long slope； chequered with
cultivation。 Looking up the valley； to the right； one saw a line of blue；
far…off hills。
The tea…table had been planted in the shade of one of the little
summer…houses； and the rest of the party was already assembled about it
when Denis and Priscilla made their appearance。 Henry Wimbush had
begun to pour out the tea。 He was one of those ageless； unchanging men
on the farther side of fifty； who might be thirty； who might be anything。
Denis had known him almost as long as he could remember。 In all those
years his pale； rather handsome face had never grown any older； it was
like the pale grey bowler hat which he always wore； winter and summer
unageing； calm； serenely without expression。
Next him； but separated from him and from the rest of the world by the
almost impenetrable barriers of her deafness； sat Jenny Mullion。 She was
perhaps thirty； had a tilted nose and a pink… and…white complexion； and
wore her brown hair plaited and coiled in two lateral buns over her ears。
In the secret tower of her deafness she sat apart； looking down at the world
through sharply piercing eyes。 What did she think of men and women
and things？ That was something that Denis had never been able to
discover。 In her enigmatic remoteness Jenny was a little disquieting。
11
… Page 12…
CROME YELLOW
Even now some interior joke seemed to be amusing her； for she was
smiling to herself； and her brown eyes were like very bright round
marbles。
On his other side the serious； moonlike innocence of Mary
Bracegirdle's face shone pink and childish。 She was nearly twenty…three；
but one wouldn't have guessed it。 Her short hair； clipped like a page's；
hung in a bell of elastic gold about her cheeks。 She had large blue china
eyes； whose expression was one of ingenuous and often puzzled
earnestness。
Next to Mary a small gaunt man was sitting； rigid and erect in his chair。
In appearance Mr。 Scogan was like one of those extinct bird…lizards of the
Tertiary。 His nose was beaked； his dark eye had the shining quickness of
a robin's。 But there was nothing soft or gracious or feathery about him。
The skin of his wrinkled brown face had a dry and scaly look； his hands
were the hands of a crocodile。 His movements were marked by the
lizard's disconcertingly abrupt clockwork speed； his speech was thin； fluty；
and dry。 Henry Wimbush's school…fellow and exact contemporary； Mr。
Scogan looked far older and； at the same time； far more youthfully alive
than did that gentle aristocrat with the face like a grey bowler。
Mr。 Scogan might look like an extinct saurian； but Gombauld was
altogether and essentially human。 In the old…fashioned natural histories
of the 'thirties he might have figured in a steel engraving as a type of
Homo Sapiensan honour which at that time commonly fell to Lord
Byron。 Indeed； with more hair and less collar； Gombauld would have
been completely Byronicmore than Byronic； even； for Gombauld was of
Provencal descent； a black… haired young corsair of thirty； with flashing
teeth and luminous large dark eyes。 Denis looked at him enviously。 He
was jealous of his talent： if only he wrote verse as well as Gombauld
painted pictures！ Still more； at the moment； he envied Gombauld his
looks； his vitality； his easy confidence of manner。 Was it surprising that
Anne should like him？ Like him？it might even be something worse；
Denis reflected bitterly； as he walked at Priscilla's side down the long
grass terrace。
Between Gombauld and Mr。 Scogan a very much lowered deck…chair
12
… Page 13…