Читать книгу Roses Have Thorns - Бетти Нилс - Страница 3

She knew at once who it was, for her nose was within an inch of a vast expanse of waistcoat which could belong only to the Professor.

She said crossly, “Oh, no…” and then, aghast at her own rudeness, “Good afternoon, Professor Nauta.”

She detected mockery in his “Good afternoon, Miss Fletcher,” and his slow appraisal of her person. “Well, well, it would be rude to say that I scarcely recognize you, wouldn’t it? Would it be appropriate for me to quote Chaucer? ‘And she was fair as is the rose in May…’”

Sarah eyed him with dislike. “Roses have thorns—Shakespeare said that—and good day to you, Professor. You are not only rude, you are unkind, too.”

She looked up at him with her pansy eyes and met his hard gaze unwaveringly, and then was totally disarmed by his sudden smile. It was kind and friendly and contrite.

“Forgive me, Sarah. I am not sure what prompted me to speak to you like that. I wonder why, when we meet, I feel the urge to annoy you?”

“I have no idea,” said Sarah, trying to ignore the smile….