"Well, there it is!" Julian gruffly and callously summed up the
situation, staring at the inside of his teacup.
"Propitious moment for getting a monopoly of door-knobs at the Cape, I
suppose?" said Louis quizzically. His cousin manufactured, among other
articles, white and jet door-knobs.
"No need for you to be so desperately funny!" snapped Julian, who
detested Louis' brand of facetiousness. It was the word "propitious"
that somehow annoyed him--it had a sarcastic flavour, and it was
"Louis all over."
"No offence, old man!" Louis magnanimously soothed him. "On the
contrary, many happy returns of the day." In social intercourse
the younger cousin's good-humour and suavity were practically
indestructible.
But Julian still scowled.
Rachel, to make a tactful diversion, rose and began to collect plates.
The meal was at an end, and for Mrs. Maldon it had closed in ignominy.
From her quarter of the table she pushed crockery towards Rachel with
a gesture of disillusion; the courage to smile had been but momentary.
She felt old--older than she had ever felt before. The young
generation presented themselves to her as almost completely enigmatic.
She admitted that they were foreign to her, that she could not
comprehend them at all.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89