Читать книгу Bring the Monkey - Miles Franklin - Страница 6

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"It's getting to be a pretty pass with me to be invited for that!" exclaimed Zarl with humorous petulance as she stood before the long mirror and arranged a delectable copper-tinted curl on her forehead. She refers to herself as ginger, but that is affectation. Her hair is that incredible shade that shames a new penny, and challenges amour. It matches the little dancing flecks in her soft round eyes.

She tossed a letter on stationery embossed TATTINGWOOD HALL, SUPERSNORING, with a telephone exchange in the Home Counties.

My darling Zarl,

Do come for the week-end, and bring the Monkey. Ydonea Zaltuffrie is to be here, and if Cedd's machinations hang fire, what am I to do with such a white elephant? She is dripping in beauty and "it" and dresses mostly in jewels, given her by some Indian Prince whose name is never mentioned for fear of making things worse in India. So Swithwulf has dubbed him the Rajah of Bogwallah for convenience. Do. This is a genuine S.O.S. Besides, I'm dying to make his acquaintance. Swithwulf has called in Scotland Yard because of the jewels. Jimmy Wengham is to be here too. Don't fail me. Clarice.

"Did you ever I must be degenerating into a sorry old tart-like an organ-grinder invited to bringa-da-monk to entertain a flicker doll with goggle eyes, who registers the lowest paroxysms of osculation as a substitute for witchery every time some Buffalo Bill whiffles through a megaphone."

"I shouldn't mind being considered a tart with a tom cat, or I'd even be civil to one of those goggle-eyed frowsy Pekes to gain admittance to so marvellous a menagerie. I begrudge Percy Macacus Rhesus y Osterley, he is all that has stood between me and jumping-off this last week."

I was spread in a deep chair, my feet to the fire with Percy on my chest under my oldest woolly jersey, fast asleep. The lovable face showed complete abandon, the closed eyelids were an eggshell blue that left those of the painted ladies mere "mucky pups."

"You come too. I'll wire Clarice. She'll be delighted. She's a kind old pillow."

"I've just refused the party at Buckhurst because I cannot afford the tips in those private pubs--prefer the regular inns; besides, I've only got one evening gown spry enough."

"I haven't a stitch either; and imagine me in evening dress with Percy! He'd pluck every feather off me, and leave bleeding weals on my most important promontories. The odious little cow never cares a hoot about the side his bread is buttered, and favours all the wrong people. He'll most likely go for old Swith's nose."

"He evidently knows how to annex a faithful coolie," I said, tilting his chin the better to adore him. He made little guffing sounds of protest against being disturbed, and crawled farther under my jersey.

"He really is consistent about you. It makes me think he must have some character or intellect. If you won't come with me, come with Percy to Tattingwood Hall."

"I've got an idea! I'll go as your maid in overalls, to take care of Percy. I shall be saved from the woofits, and you'll help Lady Tattingwood to offset Ydonea. My new dress will be free for your use too."

"Don't be a peanut! What an entertaining but utterly impossible idea--some one there might know you."

"No. When I ascend to society, it is to a much more political sociological clique who do good to humanity; also I'll be disguised in a uniform. Who ever looks at a maid at one of those jamborees--plenty of hunting higher up. If I wanted to commit a crime, I'd take Percy, and then everyone would be looking at him and fail to see me. Yes, let's rival Ydonea!"

"Why should I waste my fleeting moments on the oddments that infest Clarice--not one of them could be excited to go as far as the Murrumbidgee, let alone the Indigirka or Lena."

"What about Jimmy Wengham? I see in the papers that he is the pilot of Ydonea's aircraft--going to fly to glory. I should think he might be useful for your expedition."

"Aaaahhhh! Has she swallowed Jimmy? I might induce regurgitation, just to see."

We telephoned a telegram:

DELIGHTED BRINGING MONKEY AND MAID SATURDAY FOUR O'CLOCK ZARL

We were in the midst of our preparations when Lady Tattingwood's reply came:

AFRAID NO ROOM FOR MAID HOUSE FULL SORRY LOVE CLARICE

"Well then, it's off, and I contribute Jimmy to Ydonea's bag," said Zarl. "And I'm glad, as I'd much rather do something quietly with you. Please send another telegram."

Unselfishness is one of the prominent ingredients of Zarl's seductiveness. She was obviously planning to keep me from melancholia during the weekend, because I had lately been knocked into a cocked hat, but I did not want to burden her unduly. I went to the telephone and sent another message:

MAID THOROUGHLY RESPECTABLE GIVE HER MATTRESS IN MY ROOM NECESSARY FOR MONKEY ZARL

"There, you must live up to me now. Percy will be an opening for me to be in the whole shoot, above stairs and below--a two-ring comedy."

I hauled Percy from a picture rail, where he was investigating an electric wire, and lashed him to a divan leg, where he began to shred the valance with perfect good-will and gentlemanliness.