There was plenty of talk and laughter at the dinner-table, while the
Countess and Lady Lesbia conversed gravely and languidly in the
dimly-lighted drawing-room. The dinner was excellent, and both
travellers were ravenous. They had eaten nothing since breakfast, and
had driven from Windermere on the top of the coach in the keen evening
air. When the sharp edge of the appetite was blunted, Maulevrier began
to talk of his adventures since he and Molly had last met. He had not
being dissipating in London all the time--or, indeed, any great part of
the time of his absence from Fellside; but Molly had been left in
Cimmerian, darkness as to his proceedings. He never wrote a letter if he
could possibly avoid doing so. If it became a vital necessity to him to
communicate with anyone he telegraphed, or, in his own language, 'wired'
to that person; but to sit down at a desk and labour with pen and ink
was not within his capacities or his views of his mission in life.
'If a fellow is to write letters he might as well be a clerk in an
office,' he said, 'and sit on a high stool.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108