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'I must say I agree,' Rolf nodded. 'I've never hank-
48
ered to live in any other time but our own.'
They took a right-hand fork leading out of the
town, drove along a hawthorn-bordered lane and
turned left at the next junction. The house which
Max Neilson had leased for the summer lay half
way along a narrow lane. There were no other build-
ings in sight. A rawboned cob stood in a paddock
next to the house, chewing slowly and thoughtfully
at the grass. Buttercups and daisies gave a brightness
to the unmown field.
The house was clearly of the same general age as
the Assembly Rooms, possibly even built by the
same architect. A long, stucco front with the usual
well proportioned windows, a smaller version of the
pillared portico, with a very handsome front door
ornamented by a lion's head knocker which gleamed
brassily as they arrived.
Rolf hooted, the well-bred little hoot which the
Rolls made. Then round the corner of the house
strolled Dodie Alexander and Max Neilson, casually
dressed in slacks and loose shirts.
'There you are,' Max drawled. 'Come and join us
in the garden. We're having tea.'
'We had an early lunch on our way down,' said
Rolf. 'I'm starving again. I hope your notion of tea
is quite generous.'
`Dodie got it ready,' Max said.
'Sandwiches, cake and ice-cream,' Dodie told
them.
Sebby was unpacking the cases. Cleo languidly
climbed out of the car and gave Dodie a swift, sum-
49
ming up look. 'Could I see my room? I'm exhausted.
Car journeys are so tiring. I need to wash, change.'
`I'll show you,' said Dodie, her amusement thinly
veiled. She grinned at Katrine. `Katya, my darling!
I'm happy you are here. Max, take the child and
feed her. She is pale.'
He took Katrine's arm. 'Come along, Katya,' he
said with irritating mock-solemnity.
'I don't need to be taken,' she said, pulling free.
'I must help Sebby, anyway.'
Sebby, however, was in one of his remote moods.
'I don't need any help, miss,' he said.
'There you are,' Max told her teasingly.
Rolf had already shot off to find the food. Katrine
looked uneasily at Sebby. Was he sulking because
Cleo had called him a servant? He could take things
to heart sometimes. She knew he was touchy on the
subject of status.
Max calmly resumed possession of her arm, look-
ing down at her out of those heavy-lidded eyes.
'Do as you're told, child. Sebby doesn't want you
at the moment. He's going to prowl about and learn
the lie of the land, aren't you, Sebby?'
Sebby had stacked the cases neatly under the
portico. He gave Max one of his inscrutable looks.
'That's right, sir.' His tone was bland.
Max grinned at him. 'We'll get out from under
your feet, then. Come along, Katya.'
She obeyed reluctantly, and Max gave her a dry
smile. 'Look less like an early Christian martyr, my
child. I'm beginning to think you don't like me.'
50
She opened wide, innocent eyes. 'What makes you
think that?'
He laughed. 'What, indeed?'
The tea was laid out in the garden, picnic style,
on a rough cane table beside which stood two chairs.
Rolf sat in one, eating tomato and cucumber sand-
wiches greedily. He waved to them.
'This lemonade is delicious. Did Dodie make it?'
'No,' said Max, 'I did. My grandmother taught
me.' He looked at Katrine, smiling. 'I'll show you
some time. You use both lemons and oranges. The
orange is to sweeten the juice.' There were wafer-
thin slices of orange floating in the green glass jug.
Rolf poured a glass for her and Katrine drank
thirstily. It was delicious.
Max stretched out on the grass, shading his eyes
with one lean hand, while Rolf and Katrine sat at
the table eating. There was a blackbird on the
chimney, pouring out music, and the sun was hot on
Katrine's shoulders. She nibbled at the sandwiches
without real relish. For some reason Max's unmov-
ing figure was distracting her mind from other mat-
ters. She watched him secretly from beneath lowered
lashes. He was long and lean, his shirt collar open at
the brown throat, his dark hair ruffled by a slight
breeze which blew gently across the grass. Even in
repose he commanded attention. She could only see
half of his face. His eyes were hidden by the curve
of his hand. Below his thin, strong fingers showed
that bony nose and the firm, yet mocking mouth,
now relaxed in repose. Jaw and cheekbones were
5
tough enough to draw questioning attention to the
amusement he so often displayed in his lazy eyes.
Was he really the lazily indifferent man he usually
pretended to be?
His features were contradictory, puzzling. Katrine
took a small almond cake and bit into it negligently.
Rolf pushed back his chair and stood up.
'I'll go and find out what's keeping Cleo and
Dodie,' he said.
The silence when he had gone seemed to oppress
Katrine's spirits. She decided to follow him, but
when she stood up Max opened his eyes and low-
ered the hand which had shielded his face. 'I want
to talk to you,' he said in tones at once light and de-
cisive.
She waited, shifting from one foot to another, like
a child about to be reprimanded.
'Sit down here,' Max ordered, patting the grass
beside him in a way which brooked no refusal.
She looked at him, flushed and indignant, on the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]