[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"I hope you keep this book locked up," she said. "If
the boys saw the picture of Ratty they'd treat you as one
of themselves."
"They do already. I oughtn't to have made that one of
Rathern, but he has such marvellous hollows and lines."
He ripped out the page, crumpled it and staffed into his
pocket. "I won't risk injuring the old boy. Shall we go on
to Exmouth for a cup of tea?"
Hugh was quietly exuberant with happiness. He looked
at Pat, and to him everything, from her wavy, tawny hair
to the slim, sandalled feet was perfect. He risked taking
his eyes from the road in order to delight in her contour
and the utterly graceful curve of her neck, and with a
drowning sort of bliss he thought of her hands holding
his face, her fiingers cool upon his brow. In spite of know-
ing his limitations, Hugh was still something of an ideal-
ist; he was also possessed of a large degree of optimism.
Exmouth was full of holiday-makers, but after tea Hugh
found a green hill abo-^e the sea and, inevitably, out again
came the sketch book. Pat was the subject this time, curls
112
blowing gently in the evening breeze against the sky, her
mouth sweet and drowsy, for she was tired. It was an excel-
lent likeness and faintly flattering. Side by side they exam-
ined it in the golden light.
Regretfully Pat shook her head. "It's lovely, but I'm sot
like that."
"To me you are," he said softly. "That's exactly how I
see you."
"Then you don't see me as I am. This girl in pendl
could never suffer from any of the baser emotions like .. o
like anger or jealousy."
"Do you mean that you do?"
"I'm human."
He laughed a little. "I'm glad to hear it. Maybe one
of these days I'll see you jealous, and I'll draw you again
in the light of new knowledge. I hope I shall be at the
root of the jealousy."
Pat was silent. This was her cue, her opening for s.
declaration that they would never be more than friends. But
the day had been one of tranquility and comradeship, and
she couldn't bear, just now, to see pain come into those
bright, boyish brown eyes. There ought to be something
she could say, though, some casual remark which would
show him the inadvisability of taking too much for granted.
The next moment it was too late. Shyly, his hand slid
across her back and held her shoulder and his mouth
pressed warmly at her temple. Then he drew a queer,
choked breath and got quickly to 'his feet.
"It's getting late. Pat. We'll have to go."
Neither spoke mudi during the drive back. to Manbury.
Shadows lengthened and the sun was gone, but the long
twilight lasted till they had dimbed the steep road from
the village to Craigwood. He slowed at the gates and
turned as if to run up the drive.
"No, I'll walk it," she said hastily. 'Td rather. Please,
Hugh!"
Obediently, he stopped. Not looking up he detached
the sketch he had made of her from the book and slipped
it between a folded newspaper which had lain between
them. His tone was slightly stilted. I
"I want you to have this. Pat." He made a small sound
which was supposed to denote amusement but somehow
missed the mark. "That's another picture it wouldn't do fos
the boys to ogle."
"Thanks." She held the paper under her arm, and her
other hand was on the door handle. "It's been a glorious
day, Hugh."
"Yes. It has been . . . nice." As she made to press
down the^ handle he went on stumblingly, "Pat, there's
something I have to say. It's difficult, because I'm a com-
plete novice at this kind of thing. No please don't inter-
rupt. And don't give me an answer now. Let me get this
said, and . . . and we'll discuss it some other time." He had
to pause, but the sight of him, clenching on to the wheel
and staring palely through the windscreen at the dusky
road, kept Pat nerveless.
"The fact is, I'm in love with you I have been ever
since we first met and I want to marry you. I know I've
spoken of this too soon too soon for you, that is and
that I'm doing it hurriedly and without grace just as I do
everything else, except my job. But I had to do it now be-
cause . . . well, there's the holiday with your father . . .
and other things. Please understand, Pat. I've been over it
with myself many times. I'm not fit to black your shoes;
I'm dumsy and forgetful, and I daresay I'll never rise above
teaching art. But I do love you, Pat, and I can offer you
a home at Manbury." Breathless, he leaned over with a
jerky movement and thrust open her door. "I meant to put
it so much better, but I'm depending on your understand-
ing. Shall I see you at the week-end ?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
"I hope you keep this book locked up," she said. "If
the boys saw the picture of Ratty they'd treat you as one
of themselves."
"They do already. I oughtn't to have made that one of
Rathern, but he has such marvellous hollows and lines."
He ripped out the page, crumpled it and staffed into his
pocket. "I won't risk injuring the old boy. Shall we go on
to Exmouth for a cup of tea?"
Hugh was quietly exuberant with happiness. He looked
at Pat, and to him everything, from her wavy, tawny hair
to the slim, sandalled feet was perfect. He risked taking
his eyes from the road in order to delight in her contour
and the utterly graceful curve of her neck, and with a
drowning sort of bliss he thought of her hands holding
his face, her fiingers cool upon his brow. In spite of know-
ing his limitations, Hugh was still something of an ideal-
ist; he was also possessed of a large degree of optimism.
Exmouth was full of holiday-makers, but after tea Hugh
found a green hill abo-^e the sea and, inevitably, out again
came the sketch book. Pat was the subject this time, curls
112
blowing gently in the evening breeze against the sky, her
mouth sweet and drowsy, for she was tired. It was an excel-
lent likeness and faintly flattering. Side by side they exam-
ined it in the golden light.
Regretfully Pat shook her head. "It's lovely, but I'm sot
like that."
"To me you are," he said softly. "That's exactly how I
see you."
"Then you don't see me as I am. This girl in pendl
could never suffer from any of the baser emotions like .. o
like anger or jealousy."
"Do you mean that you do?"
"I'm human."
He laughed a little. "I'm glad to hear it. Maybe one
of these days I'll see you jealous, and I'll draw you again
in the light of new knowledge. I hope I shall be at the
root of the jealousy."
Pat was silent. This was her cue, her opening for s.
declaration that they would never be more than friends. But
the day had been one of tranquility and comradeship, and
she couldn't bear, just now, to see pain come into those
bright, boyish brown eyes. There ought to be something
she could say, though, some casual remark which would
show him the inadvisability of taking too much for granted.
The next moment it was too late. Shyly, his hand slid
across her back and held her shoulder and his mouth
pressed warmly at her temple. Then he drew a queer,
choked breath and got quickly to 'his feet.
"It's getting late. Pat. We'll have to go."
Neither spoke mudi during the drive back. to Manbury.
Shadows lengthened and the sun was gone, but the long
twilight lasted till they had dimbed the steep road from
the village to Craigwood. He slowed at the gates and
turned as if to run up the drive.
"No, I'll walk it," she said hastily. 'Td rather. Please,
Hugh!"
Obediently, he stopped. Not looking up he detached
the sketch he had made of her from the book and slipped
it between a folded newspaper which had lain between
them. His tone was slightly stilted. I
"I want you to have this. Pat." He made a small sound
which was supposed to denote amusement but somehow
missed the mark. "That's another picture it wouldn't do fos
the boys to ogle."
"Thanks." She held the paper under her arm, and her
other hand was on the door handle. "It's been a glorious
day, Hugh."
"Yes. It has been . . . nice." As she made to press
down the^ handle he went on stumblingly, "Pat, there's
something I have to say. It's difficult, because I'm a com-
plete novice at this kind of thing. No please don't inter-
rupt. And don't give me an answer now. Let me get this
said, and . . . and we'll discuss it some other time." He had
to pause, but the sight of him, clenching on to the wheel
and staring palely through the windscreen at the dusky
road, kept Pat nerveless.
"The fact is, I'm in love with you I have been ever
since we first met and I want to marry you. I know I've
spoken of this too soon too soon for you, that is and
that I'm doing it hurriedly and without grace just as I do
everything else, except my job. But I had to do it now be-
cause . . . well, there's the holiday with your father . . .
and other things. Please understand, Pat. I've been over it
with myself many times. I'm not fit to black your shoes;
I'm dumsy and forgetful, and I daresay I'll never rise above
teaching art. But I do love you, Pat, and I can offer you
a home at Manbury." Breathless, he leaned over with a
jerky movement and thrust open her door. "I meant to put
it so much better, but I'm depending on your understand-
ing. Shall I see you at the week-end ?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]