Читать книгу The Man Who Loved Lions - Ethel Lina White - Страница 16

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"Ann," she cried, "how you've changed. You used to be adorably dignified and reserved—unlike any one else. But now you're typed. You've developed herd-instinct...Darling, it's divine to see you again but I could slay you for spoiling yourself."

As she listened to the ungenerous greeting, Ann felt the surge of her old inferiority complex; but as she continued to look at Isabella she realised that life was repaying its debt. For the first time she faced Isabella on equal terms.

"If I followed my crowd," she said, "I should be wearing a bearskin or a string of beads. But I never went native, although I have lived in some very rough places."

"The country, I suppose? Wales?"

"Alaska, Brazil, Africa, America. And the rest."

"How foul. Didn't you loathe it?"

"Loved it. I got ingrained dirt in my knees. It made me feel so manly."

Richard's neighing laugh was tribute to Ann's nonchalance.

"Ann makes us appear quite small town," he remarked to Isabella. "By the way, she had met our John Cumberland, Esquire. And now she wants to meet his wife. Could it be arranged?"

"Meet her is the last thing I wish to do," flashed Ann. "I couldn't be too far away from her. I've seen what she has done to John."

Isabella's cheeks suddenly flamed under her rouge and her eyes were hostile as she glared at the girl.

"I reserve my sympathy for his wife," she said.

"This is where I come in," put in Richard. "Sorry, Ann dear. I forgot to tell you that Isabella is Mrs. John Cumberland."

The news tested Ann's acquired poise severely and made her feel very young and inexperienced. Her lips trembled as she realised fully the shoddy shrines before which she had worshipped. It was difficult to realise that two hours before she was telling the Manchester man about the glory that was Ganges.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

Isabella acknowledged her apology with a shrug as she spoke to Richard.

"Cigarette."

Ann noticed that she could not demonstrate her unconcern without the aid of smoke. After blowing a ring, she asked Ann a languid question.

"What about you? Married?"

"No," replied Ann.

"Living with a man?"

"No."

"No personal experience. Good grief, how dull."

Although the shock of meeting Isabella had hurt her more than the change in John, Ann suddenly faced up to reality. She admitted that the brilliant company of the Seven Sullied Souls existed only in her imagination. They were ordinary clever students whom she had sprinkled with star-dust, glorifying charm to beauty and talent to genius.

"Stephen knew," she thought. "He told me not to be taken in by them because they belonged to the monkey-house. They've not changed. They've always been a rotten lot. I've been a sucker. But I've lost nothing, for I never had it."

It was a tribute to Stephen's judgment that he had seen always through their pose of glib phrases—garnished with cheap malicious wit and lacking ideas or human kindness.

"I'm safe now," she told herself jubilantly. "I can't be hurt again. Stephen is the one that matters. I came to meet him."

Richard seemed to read her thoughts.

"I'm not expecting either Dr. Pybus or Professor Short," he said. "Victoria and James to you. They are so professional they would shy at writing 'Zoo-man' in their engagement-book...That is how they visualise me—with a fork and straw—perpetually bedding-down beasts...But I feel sure Stephen will show up."

Although she knew her rising colour would betray her secret to Richard, Ann asked him an eager question.

"How do you know? Have you seen him recently?"

"Very recently," replied Richard. "He looked very fit and all that. R.A.F, uniform, of course. They call him 'Lucky Pardon.' He'll come though."

"Did you mention the reunion?"

"No, but he did. He talked about you. Asked questions and so on. Of course, I couldn't answer them then. But he is hoping to meet you here to-night."

Ann was too dazed with happiness to notice that Isabella was looking at Richard through narrowed lids while her lips formed a soundless word—"Liar." Then to her surprise Richard held out his hand.

"I am so glad to have met you again, Ann," he said in his most charming voice. "When the war is over we must have a real reunion, with a banquet and champagne. But—as things are—I have to ask you to go. We are expecting my uncle's death at any minute. I should be with him now. Good-bye."