Читать книгу The Poisoned Paradise - Robert William Service - Страница 28

Hugh followed a line of passengers to the dining car. He had found a place and was looking at the menu card when the waiter ushered a lady into the opposite seat. He looked up and then as quickly away. For even in that casual glimpse he was aware that his vis-à-vis was most alarmingly attractive.

Now Hugh was an unusually shy young man, and in the ordinary course of events would have eaten his meal in silence, and gone away without a word. To his amazement, he heard a firm, clear voice addressing him:

"Don't you remember me?"

Suddenly he found himself gazing into a pair of smiling brown eyes; but even as he looked the smile died in their amber depths. In its place was embarrassment; a frown puckered the delicately pencilled eyebrows. Again the clear voice spoke almost with reproach.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, but you are ridiculously like a friend of mine,—Paul Vulning."

"Indeed, that's curious."

"Yes, too absurd. For now I look, you're quite a bit different. Paul must be five years older than you, but he looks ten. The dear boy doesn't take the care of himself he ought. A sad scapegrace."

She regarded him again, then laughed joyously.

"Why, here we are, two perfect strangers talking together like old pals. What must you think of me? Because of your likeness to Paul I feel as if I'd known you for ages. What's your name?"

"Hugh Kildair."

"Sounds deliciously Scotch. But you're English, aren't you?"

"I've lived all my life in England."

"Indeed! So have I. But never again. The English are so cold. They don't understand temperament. Even before my husband died and we lost all our money, I was quite fed up with it. Now I spend the winter in Monte and the summer in Aix."

The waiter interrupted her with the wine card. She looked rather disdainfully down the list and chose the most expensive. Then she scanned Hugh appraisingly. His new grey suit sat well. His collar and tie were of the right sort. He looked clean, correct; a public school man. The lady seemed satisfied.

"You're a nice boy," she said happily. "I'm Mrs. Belmire. Every one in Monte knows me. You're going to Monte, of course?"

Hugh hesitated. "No, I'm rather seedy. I'm going to Menton to rest up."

"Menton. Why! you'll be bored to death there! Nothing but old tabbies who go to each others' teas and talk gossip. Oh, you'll hate it. Get off at Monte. Promise me you will."

She was really a beautiful woman. Everything about her was so exquisitely correct. Her complexion had the delicacy of porcelain; her henna-coloured hair looked as if it had just come from the hands of the coiffeur; her eyes had passion in their tarn-brown depths. As her hand touched his he felt that he would have got off at Hades to please her.

"Seems a good idea; I might as well rest there."

"Topping! it's decided then. You'll come and see me. I suppose you'll stay at the 'Paris.' I wouldn't though. They'll charge you two hundred francs a night for a room. Oh, yes, my dear boy, you're going to say their charges are their charges, but you don't know Monte. Unless you're odiously oofy, don't go to the Paris. It's simply infested with 'rastas' and nouveaux riches. Some of the hotels on the hill are really quite nice, and you'll meet the right sort of people there. You see, I'm taking a motherly interest in you. I don't want to see you foolishly extravagant. Above all, don't throw your money away recklessly at the Casino. If you must play let me be your adviser. Let me give you the benefit of my experience."

"That's awfully nice of you."

"Not at all. I've helped heaps of men. I can't afford to play myself, but I enjoy seeing others win. Have a cigarette?"

He took one from a gold case, and they puffed between courses. She sipped only a little of the wine, and the bottle was half full when the waiter whisked it away. She ordered a fine champagne with her coffee, and graciously allowed Hugh to pay the bill. As she rose to leave she gave his hand a little squeeze.

"There! I've enjoyed my lunch so much! Remember me; Mrs. Belmire. And don't forget to get off at Monte."

The paying of the bill had a sobering effect on him.

"After all," he thought, "if she knew I was a nobody with only two thousand francs in the world she wouldn't wipe her shoes on me. As for meeting her in Monte, this decides me. I'll steer clear of the place."