Bobby did not see the immediate1 sequel of his adventure. On the followingmorning he went up to town, there to meet a friend who was thinking ofstarting a garage and who fancied Bobby’s cooperation might be valuable.
After settling things to everybody’s satisfaction, Bobby caught the 11:30train home two days later. He caught it, true, but only by a very narrowmargin. He arrived at Paddington when the clock announced the time tobe 11:28, dashed down the subway, emerged on No. 3 Platform just as thetrain was moving and hurled2 himself at the first carriage he saw, heedlessof indignant ticket collectors and porters in his immediate rear.
Wrenching3 open the door, he fell in on his hands and knees, picked him-self up. The door was shut with a slam by an agile4 porter and Bobby foundhimself looking at the sole occupant of the compartment5.
It was a first-class carriage and in the corner facing the engine sat adark girl smoking a cigarette. She had on a red skirt, a short green jacketand a brilliant blue beret, and despite a certain resemblance to an organgrinder’s monkey (she had long, sorrowful dark eyes and a puckered-upface) she was distinctly attractive.
In the midst of an apology, Bobby broke off.
“Why, it’s you, Frankie!” he said. “I haven’t seen you for ages.”
“Well, I haven’t seen you. Sit down and talk.”
Bobby grinned.
“My ticket’s the wrong colour.”
“That doesn’t matter,” said Frankie kindly6. “I’ll pay the difference foryou.”
“My manly7 indignation rises at the thought,” said Bobby. “How could Ilet a lady pay for me?”
“It’s about all we seem to be good for these days,” said Frankie.
“I will pay the difference myself,” said Bobby heroically as a burly figurein blue appeared at the door from the corridor.
“Leave it to me,” said Frankie.
She smiled graciously at the ticket collector, who touched his hat as hetook the piece of white cardboard from her and punched it.
“Mr. Jones has just come in to talk to me for a bit,” she said. “That won’tmatter, will it?”
“That’s all right, your ladyship. The gentleman won’t be staying long, Iexpect.” He coughed tactfully. “I shan’t be round again till after Bristol,” headded significantly.
“What can be done with a smile,” said Bobby as the official withdrew.
Lady Frances Derwent shook her head thoughtfully.
“I’m not so sure it’s the smile,” she said. “I rather think it’s father’s habitof tipping everybody five shillings whenever he travels that does it.”
“I thought you’d given up Wales for good, Frankie.”
Frances sighed.
“My dear, you know what it is. You know how mouldy parents can be.
What with that and the bathrooms in the state they are, and nothing to doand nobody to see—and people simply won’t come to the country to staynowadays! They say they’re economizing8 and they can’t go so far. Well, Imean, what’s a girl to do?”
Bobby shook his head, sadly recognizing the problem.
“However,” went on Frankie, “after the party I went to last night, Ithought even home couldn’t be worse.”
“What was wrong with the party?”
“Nothing at all. It was just like any other party, only more so. It was tostart at the Savoy at half past eight. Some of us rolled up about a quarterpast nine and, of course, we got entangled9 with other people, but we gotsorted out about ten. And we had dinner and then after a bit we went onto the Marionette10—there was a rumour11 it was going to be raided, but noth-ing happened—it was just moribund12, and we drank a bit and then wewent on to the Bullring and that was even deader, and then we went to acoffee stall, and then we went to a fried-fish place, and then we thoughtwe’d go and breakfast with Angela’s uncle and see if he’d be shocked, buthe wasn’t—only bored, and then we sort of fizzled home. Honestly, Bobby,it isn’t good enough.”
“I suppose not,” said Bobby, stifling13 a pang14 of envy.
Never in his wildest moments did he dream of being able to be a mem-ber of the Marionette or the Bullring.
His relationship with Frankie was a peculiar15 one.
As children, he and his brothers had played with the children at theCastle. Now that they were all grown-up, they seldom came across eachother. When they did, they still used Christian16 names. On the rare occa-sions when Frankie was at home, Bobby and his brothers would go up andplay tennis. But Frankie and her two brothers were not asked to the Vicar-age. It seemed to be tacitly recognized that it would not be amusing forthem. On the other hand, extra men were always wanted for tennis. Theremay have been a trace of constraint17 in spite of the Christian names. TheDerwents were, perhaps, a shade more friendly than they need have beenas though to show that “there was no difference.” The Jones, on their side,were a shade formal, as though determined18 not to claim more friendshipthan was offered them. The two families had now nothing in commonsave certain childish memories. Yet Bobbie was very fond of Frankie andwas always pleased on the rare occasions when Fate threw them together.
“I’m so tired of everything,” said Frankie in a weary voice. “Aren’t you?”
Bobby considered.
“No, I don’t think I am.”
“My dear, how wonderful,” said Frankie.
“I don’t mean I’m hearty19,” said Bobby, anxious not to create a painfulimpression. “I just can’t stand people who are hearty.”
Frankie shuddered20 at the mere21 mention of the word.
“I know,” she murmured. “They’re dreadful.”
They looked at each other sympathetically.
“By the way,” said Frankie suddenly. “What’s all this about a man fallingover the cliffs?”
“Dr. Thomas and I found him,” said Bobby. “How did you know about it,Frankie?”
“Saw it in the paper. Look.”
She indicated with her finger a small paragraph headed: “Fatal Accidentin Sea Mist.”
The victim of the tragedy at Marchbolt was identifiedlate last night by means of a photograph which he wascarrying. The photograph proved to be that of Mrs. LeoCayman. Mrs. Cayman was communicated with andjourneyed at once to Marchbolt, where she identifiedthe deceased as her brother, Alex Pritchard. Mr.
Pritchard had recently returned from Siam. He hadbeen out of England for ten years and was just startingupon a walking tour. The inquest will be held at March-bolt tomorrow.
Bobby’s thoughts flew back to the strangely haunting face of the photo-graph.
“I believe I shall have to give evidence at the inquest,” he said.
“How thrilling. I shall come and hear you.”
“I don’t suppose there will be anything thrilling about it,” said Bobby.
“We just found him, you know.”
“Was he dead?”
“No, not then. He died about a quarter of an hour later. I was alone withhim.”
He paused.
“Rather grim,” said Frankie with that immediate understanding thatBobby’s father had lacked.
“Of course he didn’t feel anything—”
“No?”
“But all the same—well—you see, he looked awfully22 alive—that sort ofperson—rather a rotten way to finish—just stepping off a cliff in a sillylittle bit of mist.”
“I get you, Steve,” said Frankie, and again the queer phrase representedsympathy and understanding.
“Did you see the sister?” she asked presently.
“No. I’ve been up in town two days. Had to see a friend of mine about agarage business we’re going in for. You remember him. Badger23 Beadon.”
“Do I?”
“Of course you do. You must remember good old Badger. He squints24.”
Frankie wrinkled her brows.
“He’s got an awfully silly kind of laugh—haw haw haw—like that,” con-tinued Bobby helpfully.
Still Frankie wrinkled her brows.
“Fell off his pony25 when we were kids,” continued Bobby. “Stuck in themud head down, and we had to pull him out by the legs.”
“Oh!” said Frankie in a flood of recollection. “I know now. Hestammered.”
“He still does,” said Bobby proudly.
“Didn’t he run a chicken farm and it went bust26?” inquired Frankie.
“That’s right.”
“And then he went into a stockbroker’s office and they fired him after amonth?”
“That’s it.”
“And then they sent him to Australia and he came back?”
“Yes.”
“Bobby,” said Frankie. “You’re not putting any money into this businessventure, I hope?”
“I haven’t got any money to put,” said Bobby.
“That’s just as well,” said Frankie.
“Naturally,” went on Bobby. “Badger has tried to get hold of someonewith a little capital to invest. But it isn’t so easy as you’d think.”
“When you look round you,” said Frankie, “you wouldn’t believe peoplehad any sense at all—but they have.”
The point of these remarks seemed at last to strike Bobby.
“Look here, Frankie,” he said. “Badger’s one of the best—one of the verybest.”
“They always are,” said Frankie.
“Who are?”
“The ones who go to Australia and come back again. How did he gethold of the money to start this business?”
“An aunt or something died and left him a garage for six cars with threerooms over and his people stumped27 up a hundred pounds to buy second-hand28 cars with. You’d be surprised what bargains there are to be had insecondhand cars.”
“I bought one once,” said Frankie. “It’s a painful subject. Don’t let’s talkof it. What did you want to leave the Navy for? They didn’t axe29 you, didthey? Not at your age.”
Bobby flushed.
“Eyes,” he said gruffly.
“You always had trouble with your eyes, I remember.”
“I know. But I just managed to scrape through. Then foreign service—the strong light, you know—that rather did for them. So—well—I had toget out.”
“Grim,” murmured Frankie, looking out of the window.
There was an eloquent30 pause.
“All the same, it’s a shame,” burst out Bobby. “My eyes aren’t really bad—they won’t get any worse, they say. I could have carried on perfectly31.”
“They look all right,” said Frankie.
She looked straight into their honest brown depths.
“So you see,” said Bobby, “I’m going in with Badger.”
Frankie nodded.
An attendant opened the door and said, “First luncheon32.”
“Shall we?” said Frankie.
They passed along to the dining car.
Bobby made a short strategic retreat during the time when the ticketcollector might be expected.
“We don’t want him to strain his conscience too much,” he said.
But Frankie said she didn’t expect ticket collectors had any consciences.
It was just after five o’clock when they reached Sileham, which was thestation for Marchbolt.
“The car’s meeting me,” said Frankie. “I’ll give you a lift.”
“Thanks. That will save me carrying this beastly thing for two miles.”
He kicked his suitcase disparagingly33.
“Three miles, not two,” said Frankie.
“Two miles if you go by the footpath34 over the links.”
“The one where—”
“Yes—where that fellow went over.”
“I suppose nobody pushed him over, did they?” asked Frankie as shehanded her dressing35 case to her maid.
“Pushed him over? Good Lord, no. Why?”
“Well, it would make it much more exciting, wouldn’t it?” said Frankieidly.
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收听单词发音
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1
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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agile
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| adj.敏捷的，灵活的 | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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economizing
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| v.节省，减少开支( economize的现在分词 ) | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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marionette
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| n.木偶 | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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moribund
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| adj.即将结束的，垂死的 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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badger
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| v.一再烦扰，一再要求，纠缠 | |
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squints
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| 斜视症( squint的名词复数 )； 瞥 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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stumped
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| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的过去式和过去分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
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second-hand
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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disparagingly
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| adv.以贬抑的口吻，以轻视的态度 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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