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"Yes, of course, darling."
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Brenda
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isn't it?" he said once.<|quote|>"Yes, of course, darling."</|quote|>"I get depressed down here
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Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once.<|quote|>"Yes, of course, darling."</|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."
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as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once.<|quote|>"Yes, of course, darling."</|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him;
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married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once.<|quote|>"Yes, of course, darling."</|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess
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hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once.<|quote|>"Yes, of course, darling."</|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They
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been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once.<|quote|>"Yes, of course, darling."</|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is
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the time he gossips to the village." "She won't stop him." "I'm afraid you don't understand the old boy altogether. He's much odder than you'd think." * * * * * "I could see from your sermon that you knew the East, Rector." "Yes, yes, most of my life." "It has an uncanny fascination, hasn't it?" "Oh, come on," said John, pulling at her coat. "We must go and see Thunderclap." So Tony returned alone with the buttonholes. After luncheon Brenda said, "Why don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once.<|quote|>"Yes, of course, darling."</|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her
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something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once.<|quote|>"Yes, of course, darling."</|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."
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Tony Last
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once. "Yes, of course, darling."<|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."</|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony.
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right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling."<|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."</|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of
|
Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling."<|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."</|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how
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had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling."<|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."</|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please
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if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling."<|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."</|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got
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she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling."<|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."</|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If
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to the village." "She won't stop him." "I'm afraid you don't understand the old boy altogether. He's much odder than you'd think." * * * * * "I could see from your sermon that you knew the East, Rector." "Yes, yes, most of my life." "It has an uncanny fascination, hasn't it?" "Oh, come on," said John, pulling at her coat. "We must go and see Thunderclap." So Tony returned alone with the buttonholes. After luncheon Brenda said, "Why don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling."<|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."</|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she
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mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling."<|quote|>"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."</|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."
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Brenda
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all alone and imagine things."<|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."</|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"
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"I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."<|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."</|quote|>"I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda
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r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."<|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."</|quote|>"I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for
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for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."<|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."</|quote|>"I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please
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young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."<|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."</|quote|>"I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be
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out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."<|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."</|quote|>"I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should
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don't understand the old boy altogether. He's much odder than you'd think." * * * * * "I could see from your sermon that you knew the East, Rector." "Yes, yes, most of my life." "It has an uncanny fascination, hasn't it?" "Oh, come on," said John, pulling at her coat. "We must go and see Thunderclap." So Tony returned alone with the buttonholes. After luncheon Brenda said, "Why don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."<|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."</|quote|>"I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for
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there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things."<|quote|>"You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."</|quote|>"I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I won't brood any more,"
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Tony Last
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the things that aren't allowed."<|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"</|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda
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You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."<|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"</|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him.
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one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."<|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"</|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha,
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shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."<|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"</|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do
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and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."<|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"</|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be
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"Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."<|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"</|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it
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* * "I could see from your sermon that you knew the East, Rector." "Yes, yes, most of my life." "It has an uncanny fascination, hasn't it?" "Oh, come on," said John, pulling at her coat. "We must go and see Thunderclap." So Tony returned alone with the buttonholes. After luncheon Brenda said, "Why don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."<|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"</|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time
|
days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed."<|quote|>"I won't brood any more,"</|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.
|
No speaker
|
"I won't brood any more,"<|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.</|quote|>"And how are the abstruse
|
the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more,"<|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.</|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We
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Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more,"<|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.</|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming
|
after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more,"<|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.</|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with
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the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more,"<|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.</|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't
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Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more,"<|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.</|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm
|
from your sermon that you knew the East, Rector." "Yes, yes, most of my life." "It has an uncanny fascination, hasn't it?" "Oh, come on," said John, pulling at her coat. "We must go and see Thunderclap." So Tony returned alone with the buttonholes. After luncheon Brenda said, "Why don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more,"<|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.</|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest
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and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more,"<|quote|>said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.</|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"
|
The Vicar
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the last for some time.<|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"</|quote|>"Absorbing." "We shall all be
|
to him; it would be the last for some time.<|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"</|quote|>"Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice
|
imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.<|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"</|quote|>"Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good
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the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.<|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"</|quote|>"Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him
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your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.<|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"</|quote|>"Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She
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"Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.<|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"</|quote|>"Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * *
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at her coat. "We must go and see Thunderclap." So Tony returned alone with the buttonholes. After luncheon Brenda said, "Why don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.<|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"</|quote|>"Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household
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I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time.<|quote|>"And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"</|quote|>"Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Absorbing."
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Brenda
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the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"<|quote|>"Absorbing."</|quote|>"We shall all be coming
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some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"<|quote|>"Absorbing."</|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about
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know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"<|quote|>"Absorbing."</|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent.
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rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"<|quote|>"Absorbing."</|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose
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the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"<|quote|>"Absorbing."</|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could
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for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"<|quote|>"Absorbing."</|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda
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Thunderclap." So Tony returned alone with the buttonholes. After luncheon Brenda said, "Why don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"<|quote|>"Absorbing."</|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was
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"Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?"<|quote|>"Absorbing."</|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you
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A Handful Of Dust
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"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."
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The Vicar
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abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing."<|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."</|quote|>"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"
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time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing."<|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."</|quote|>"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking
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that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing."<|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."</|quote|>"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me
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flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing."<|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."</|quote|>"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun
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question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing."<|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."</|quote|>"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too
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you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing."<|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."</|quote|>"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full
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So Tony returned alone with the buttonholes. After luncheon Brenda said, "Why don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing."<|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."</|quote|>"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the
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again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing."<|quote|>"We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."</|quote|>"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Ha, ha."
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Brenda
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for advice about our overdrafts."<|quote|>"Ha, ha."</|quote|>"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss
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all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."<|quote|>"Ha, ha."</|quote|>"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out
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more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."<|quote|>"Ha, ha."</|quote|>"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything
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said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."<|quote|>"Ha, ha."</|quote|>"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget
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first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."<|quote|>"Ha, ha."</|quote|>"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd
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"Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."<|quote|>"Ha, ha."</|quote|>"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans."
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don't you show Jenny the house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."<|quote|>"Ha, ha."</|quote|>"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged
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down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts."<|quote|>"Ha, ha."</|quote|>"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying
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A Handful Of Dust
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asked Miss Tendril.
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No speaker
|
"Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"<|quote|>asked Miss Tendril.</|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting
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for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"<|quote|>asked Miss Tendril.</|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He
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Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"<|quote|>asked Miss Tendril.</|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap.
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slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"<|quote|>asked Miss Tendril.</|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards
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better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"<|quote|>asked Miss Tendril.</|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up
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known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"<|quote|>asked Miss Tendril.</|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him...
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house?" "Oh yes, _do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"<|quote|>asked Miss Tendril.</|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the
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workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?"<|quote|>asked Miss Tendril.</|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"
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John Andrew
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how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril.<|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"</|quote|>said John. He had forgotten
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our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril.<|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"</|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the
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church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril.<|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"</|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous
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"Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril.<|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"</|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went
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there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril.<|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"</|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt
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have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril.<|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"</|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea
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_do_." When they reached the morning-room he said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril.<|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"</|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her
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you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril.<|quote|>"I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"</|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not
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A Handful Of Dust
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said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.
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No speaker
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her out hunting on Wednesday,"<|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.</|quote|>"Please God make there be
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asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"<|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.</|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God
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devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"<|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.</|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony
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said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"<|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.</|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've
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and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"<|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.</|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes,
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it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"<|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.</|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his
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said, "Brenda's having it done up." There were planks and ladders and heaps of plaster about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"<|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.</|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The
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giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday,"<|quote|>said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.</|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"
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John Andrew
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excitement of the coming meet.<|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"</|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout
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Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.<|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"</|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the
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how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.<|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"</|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock
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things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.<|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"</|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask
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party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.<|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"</|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like
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the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.<|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"</|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this
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about. "Oh, Teddy, what a shame. I do hate seeing things modernized." "It isn't a room we used very much." "No, but still..." She stirred the mouldings of fleur-de-lis that littered the floor, fragments of tarnished gilding and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.<|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"</|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of
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know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet.<|quote|>"Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"</|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is
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A Handful Of Dust
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he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,
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No speaker
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jump an enormous great oxer,"<|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,</|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting
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Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"<|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,</|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't
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He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"<|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,</|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't
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week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"<|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,</|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."
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as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"<|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,</|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the
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we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"<|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,</|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private
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and dusty stencil-work. "You know, Brenda's been a wonderful friend to me. I wouldn't say anything against her... but ever since I came here I've been wondering whether she really understands this beautiful place and all it means to you." "Tell me more about your terrible life," said Tony, leading her back to the central hall. "You _are_ shy of talking about yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"<|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,</|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all
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out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer,"<|quote|>he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,</|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"
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Tony Last
|
at the clubhouse. Tony said,<|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"</|quote|>"Must be back. There's going
|
golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,<|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"</|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on
|
Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,<|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"</|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends
|
meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,<|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"</|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless
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imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,<|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"</|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."
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far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,<|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"</|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later
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yourself, aren't you, Teddy? It's a mistake, you know, to keep things bottled up. I've been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,<|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"</|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted
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"I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said,<|quote|>"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"</|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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you stay down till then?"<|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."</|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look
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at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"<|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."</|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask
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spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"<|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."</|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring
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kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"<|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."</|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a
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aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"<|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."</|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."
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the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"<|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."</|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."
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been very unhappy too." Tony looked about him desperately in search of help; and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"<|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."</|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re,
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on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?"<|quote|>"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."</|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"
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Tony Last
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debate on the Pig Scheme."<|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"</|quote|>"I _could_." "Would she hate
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There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."<|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"</|quote|>"I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly
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Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."<|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"</|quote|>"I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes,
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Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."<|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"</|quote|>"I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to
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to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."<|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"</|quote|>"I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure
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so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."<|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"</|quote|>"I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."
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and help came. "Oh, there you are," said a firm, child's voice. "Come on. We're going down to the woods now. We must hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."<|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"</|quote|>"I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you
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any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme."<|quote|>"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"</|quote|>"I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I _could_."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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ring her up, couldn't you?"<|quote|>"I _could_."</|quote|>"Would she hate it? She
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Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"<|quote|>"I _could_."</|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there
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got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"<|quote|>"I _could_."</|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might."
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of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"<|quote|>"I _could_."</|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you
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how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"<|quote|>"I _could_."</|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."
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mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"<|quote|>"I _could_."</|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't
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hurry, otherwise it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"<|quote|>"I _could_."</|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to
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rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?"<|quote|>"I _could_."</|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."
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Tony Last
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up, couldn't you?" "I _could_."<|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."</|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll
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to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_."<|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."</|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."
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hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_."<|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."</|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of
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and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_."<|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."</|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"
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the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_."<|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."</|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of
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no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_."<|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."</|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and
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it will be dark." "Oh, Johnny-boy, must I really? I was just talking to daddy." "_Come on._ It's all arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_."<|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."</|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if
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question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_."<|quote|>"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."</|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six
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A Handful Of Dust
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"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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it can't be too uncomfortable."<|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."</|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too?
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there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."<|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."</|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell
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a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."<|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."</|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought
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forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."<|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."</|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"
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ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."<|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."</|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think
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arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."<|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."</|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery.
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arranged. And afterwards you're to be allowed to have tea with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."<|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."</|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time
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see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable."<|quote|>"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."</|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."
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Tony Last
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ring up and ask her."<|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."</|quote|>"Yes, I might." * *
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"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."<|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."</|quote|>"Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying
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Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."<|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."</|quote|>"Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said
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other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."<|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."</|quote|>"Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the
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out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."<|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."</|quote|>"Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into
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also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."<|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."</|quote|>"Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments
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with me upstairs." Tony crept into the library, habitable to-day, since the workmen were at rest. Brenda found him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."<|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."</|quote|>"Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly
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be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her."<|quote|>"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."</|quote|>"Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes, I might."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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quite decent hirelings, I believe."<|quote|>"Yes, I might."</|quote|>* * * * *
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called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."<|quote|>"Yes, I might."</|quote|>* * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having
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you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."<|quote|>"Yes, I might."</|quote|>* * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you
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"We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."<|quote|>"Yes, I might."</|quote|>* * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he
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meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."<|quote|>"Yes, I might."</|quote|>* * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda
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the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."<|quote|>"Yes, I might."</|quote|>* * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let
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him there two hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."<|quote|>"Yes, I might."</|quote|>* * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he
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in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe."<|quote|>"Yes, I might."</|quote|>* * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and
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A Handful Of Dust
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* * * * *
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No speaker
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I believe." "Yes, I might."<|quote|>* * * * *</|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having
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got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might."<|quote|>* * * * *</|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You
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"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might."<|quote|>* * * * *</|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr
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hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might."<|quote|>* * * * *</|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be
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make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might."<|quote|>* * * * *</|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him
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him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might."<|quote|>* * * * *</|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was
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hours later. "_Tony_, here all alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might."<|quote|>* * * * *</|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her
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"Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might."<|quote|>* * * * *</|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"
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Tony Last
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* * * * *<|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"</|quote|>"Me? Of course not." "This
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I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * *<|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"</|quote|>"Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end."
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could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * *<|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"</|quote|>"Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose
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Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * *<|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"</|quote|>"Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was
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scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * *<|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"</|quote|>"Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole
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He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * *<|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"</|quote|>"Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a
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alone? We thought you were with Jenny. What have you done with her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * *<|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"</|quote|>"Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll
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arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * *<|quote|>"Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"</|quote|>"Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Me? Of course not."
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Brenda
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Blonde down. You don't mind?"<|quote|>"Me? Of course not."</|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly
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on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"<|quote|>"Me? Of course not."</|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were
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too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"<|quote|>"Me? Of course not."</|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt
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to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"<|quote|>"Me? Of course not."</|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well,
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me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"<|quote|>"Me? Of course not."</|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I
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the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"<|quote|>"Me? Of course not."</|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major
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her?" "John took her off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"<|quote|>"Me? Of course not."</|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first.
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can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?"<|quote|>"Me? Of course not."</|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her
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A Handful Of Dust
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"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."
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Tony Last
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mind?" "Me? Of course not."<|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."</|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying
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Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not."<|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."</|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before
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love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not."<|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."</|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think
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on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not."<|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."</|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * *
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God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not."<|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."</|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How
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the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not."<|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."</|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once
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off... just in time before I said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not."<|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."</|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy
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old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not."<|quote|>"This _has_ been a jolly week-end."</|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I thought you were enjoying it."
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Brenda
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_has_ been a jolly week-end."<|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it."</|quote|>"Just like old times--before the
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"Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end."<|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it."</|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began." * * *
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ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end."<|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it."</|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with
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you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end."<|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it."</|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married
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God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end."<|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it."</|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl,
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while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end."<|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it."</|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American
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said something rude." "Oh dear... well there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end."<|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it."</|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * *
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Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end."<|quote|>"I thought you were enjoying it."</|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Just like old times--before the economics began."
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Tony Last
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thought you were enjoying it."<|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began."</|quote|>* * * * *
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been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it."<|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began."</|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you
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too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it."<|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began."</|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that
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you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it."<|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began."</|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think
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great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it."<|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began."</|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you
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boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it."<|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began."</|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without
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there's only me and Polly in the smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it."<|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began."</|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone
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coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it."<|quote|>"Just like old times--before the economics began."</|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come
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A Handful Of Dust
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* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,
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No speaker
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old times--before the economics began."<|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,</|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about
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were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began."<|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,</|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."
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got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began."<|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,</|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If
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to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began."<|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,</|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they
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the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began."<|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,</|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any
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to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began."<|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,</|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in
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smoking-room. Come and have some tea. You look all funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began."<|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,</|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What
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repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began."<|quote|>* * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,</|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property
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A Handful Of Dust
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"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"
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Marjorie
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* Marjorie said to Jock,<|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"</|quote|>"Not a thing." "I haven't
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began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,<|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"</|quote|>"Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you
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might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,<|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"</|quote|>"Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over...
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_could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,<|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"</|quote|>"Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda
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cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,<|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"</|quote|>"Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought
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r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,<|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"</|quote|>"Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his
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funny--have you been asleep?" * * * * * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,<|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"</|quote|>"Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married
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stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock,<|quote|>"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"</|quote|>"Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Not a thing."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
|
Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"<|quote|>"Not a thing."</|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to
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said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"<|quote|>"Not a thing."</|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"
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staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"<|quote|>"Not a thing."</|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass
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have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"<|quote|>"Not a thing."</|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan,
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his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"<|quote|>"Not a thing."</|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's
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flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"<|quote|>"Not a thing."</|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her
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* * "We must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"<|quote|>"Not a thing."</|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather
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the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?"<|quote|>"Not a thing."</|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"
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Marjorie
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Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."<|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"</|quote|>"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock,
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"D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."<|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"</|quote|>"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"
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having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."<|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"</|quote|>"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it
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there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."<|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"</|quote|>"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of
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was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."<|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"</|quote|>"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out.
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and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."<|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"</|quote|>"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her
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must write it down a failure, definitely." "What _does_ the old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."<|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"</|quote|>"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."
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there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing."<|quote|>"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"</|quote|>"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I doubt it."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"<|quote|>"I doubt it."</|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think
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"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"<|quote|>"I doubt it."</|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored
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course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"<|quote|>"I doubt it."</|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if
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"She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"<|quote|>"I doubt it."</|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was
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forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"<|quote|>"I doubt it."</|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think
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Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"<|quote|>"I doubt it."</|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London
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old boy expect? It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"<|quote|>"I doubt it."</|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you
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love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?"<|quote|>"I doubt it."</|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"
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Marjorie
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he knows?" "I doubt it."<|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"</|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver
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it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it."<|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"</|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is
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_has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it."<|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"</|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * *
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it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it."<|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"</|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think
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he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it."<|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"</|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth
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Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it."<|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"</|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably,
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It isn't as though he was everybody's money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it."<|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"</|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young
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God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it."<|quote|>"Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"</|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of
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A Handful Of Dust
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"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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how d'you think it'll end?"<|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."</|quote|>"The trouble is that he
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"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"<|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."</|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in
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you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"<|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."</|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to
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"Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"<|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."</|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings
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other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"<|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."</|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly
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right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"<|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."</|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day
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money." "I daresay it would have been all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"<|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."</|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this
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to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?"<|quote|>"She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."</|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."
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Marjorie
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bored with Beaver soon enough."<|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."</|quote|>"I should say she was
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think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."<|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."</|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if
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times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."<|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."</|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy
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chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."<|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."</|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been
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play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."<|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."</|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later
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of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."<|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."</|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and
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all right, if she hadn't got his name wrong." "Anyway, this lets _you_ out. You've done far more than most wives would to cheer the old boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."<|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."</|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain.
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of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough."<|quote|>"The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."</|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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an ass she is being."<|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."</|quote|>* * * * *
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would soon be over... What an ass she is being."<|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."</|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said
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it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."<|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."</|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about
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Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."<|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."</|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with
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"Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."<|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."</|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."
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aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."<|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."</|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed
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boy up." "Yes, that's certainly true," said Brenda. [IV] Another five days; then Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."<|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."</|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out
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"Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being."<|quote|>"I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."</|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived
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A Handful Of Dust
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* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,
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No speaker
|
well, if you ask me."<|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,</|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan
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she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."<|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,</|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure
|
d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."<|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,</|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord
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jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."<|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,</|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't
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"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."<|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,</|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't
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to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."<|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,</|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday
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Brenda came to Hetton again. "I shan't be here next week-end," she said, "I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."<|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,</|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her
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had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me."<|quote|>* * * * * The other married couple said to each other,</|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major
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A Handful Of Dust
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"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"
|
Unknowable
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couple said to each other,<|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"</|quote|>"I'm sure they don't." *
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* * The other married couple said to each other,<|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"</|quote|>"I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda
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is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other,<|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"</|quote|>"I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come
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economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other,<|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"</|quote|>"I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm
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Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other,<|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"</|quote|>"I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking
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him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other,<|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"</|quote|>"I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a
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"I'm going to stay with Veronica." "Am I asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other,<|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"</|quote|>"I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for
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cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other,<|quote|>"D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"</|quote|>"I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'm sure they don't."
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Unknowable
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and Allan know about Brenda?"<|quote|>"I'm sure they don't."</|quote|>* * * * *
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each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"<|quote|>"I'm sure they don't."</|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's
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the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"<|quote|>"I'm sure they don't."</|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda
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said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"<|quote|>"I'm sure they don't."</|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions
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couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"<|quote|>"I'm sure they don't."</|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't
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time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"<|quote|>"I'm sure they don't."</|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in
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asked?" "Well, you _were_, of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"<|quote|>"I'm sure they don't."</|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I
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the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?"<|quote|>"I'm sure they don't."</|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway,
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A Handful Of Dust
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* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,
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No speaker
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Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."<|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,</|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a
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Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."<|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,</|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of
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did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."<|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,</|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you
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think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."<|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,</|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's
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"Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."<|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,</|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know
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the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."<|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,</|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under
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of course, but I refused for you. You know you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."<|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,</|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often
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make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't."<|quote|>* * * * * Brenda said to Allan,</|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"
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Brenda
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* Brenda said to Allan,<|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"</|quote|>"Full of beans." "I was
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don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan,<|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"</|quote|>"Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You
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she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan,<|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"</|quote|>"Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole
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"I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan,<|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"</|quote|>"Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start
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there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan,<|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"</|quote|>"Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her
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be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan,<|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"</|quote|>"Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of
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you always hate staying away." "I wouldn't mind coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan,<|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"</|quote|>"Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to
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John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan,<|quote|>"Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"</|quote|>"Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Full of beans."
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Allan
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as a sandboy, isn't he?"<|quote|>"Full of beans."</|quote|>"I was getting worried about
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to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"<|quote|>"Full of beans."</|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's
|
managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"<|quote|>"Full of beans."</|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she?
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he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"<|quote|>"Full of beans."</|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They
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too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"<|quote|>"Full of beans."</|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's,
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overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"<|quote|>"Full of beans."</|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged
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coming." "Oh, darling, I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"<|quote|>"Full of beans."</|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights
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breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?"<|quote|>"Full of beans."</|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"
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Brenda
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isn't he?" "Full of beans."<|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"</|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last
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as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans."<|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"</|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into
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well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans."<|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"</|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I
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doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans."<|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"</|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and
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probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans."<|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"</|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from
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"And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans."<|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"</|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire
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I wish I'd known. Veronica would have loved it so... but I'm afraid it will be too late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans."<|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"</|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the
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and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans."<|quote|>"I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"</|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."
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Allan
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idea about my goings on?"<|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."</|quote|>Brenda said, "I don't want
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don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"<|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."</|quote|>Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you
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other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"<|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."</|quote|>Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any
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trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"<|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."</|quote|>Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the
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called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"<|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."</|quote|>Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information
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forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"<|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."</|quote|>Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five
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late now. She's only got a tiny house... to tell you the truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"<|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."</|quote|>Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not
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one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?"<|quote|>"Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."</|quote|>Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every
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A Handful Of Dust
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Brenda said,
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No speaker
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would come into his head."<|quote|>Brenda said,</|quote|>"I don't want him to
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It's the last thing that would come into his head."<|quote|>Brenda said,</|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's
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don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."<|quote|>Brenda said,</|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about
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he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."<|quote|>Brenda said,</|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of
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might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."<|quote|>Brenda said,</|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall
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God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."<|quote|>Brenda said,</|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived
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truth I didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."<|quote|>Brenda said,</|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the
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he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head."<|quote|>Brenda said,</|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."
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Brenda
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into his head." Brenda said,<|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."</|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed
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last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said,<|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."</|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did
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* * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said,<|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."</|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking
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it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said,<|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."</|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried
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* * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said,<|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."</|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged,
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there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said,<|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."</|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with
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didn't think you liked her much." "I hated her like hell." "Well, then...?" "Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said,<|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."</|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain
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at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said,<|quote|>"I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."</|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."
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Allan
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governessy about the whole thing."<|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."</|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?" "My
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you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."<|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."</|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute
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of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."<|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."</|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or
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it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."<|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."</|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I
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Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."<|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."</|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had
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do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."<|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."</|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were
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I suppose you must go back on Monday? The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."<|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."</|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend
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Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing."<|quote|>"Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."</|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch
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A Handful Of Dust
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"How did _you_ hear?"
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Brenda
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haven't discussed it with her."<|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?"</|quote|>"My dear girl, until this
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whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."<|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?"</|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you
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You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."<|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?"</|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is
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* * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."<|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?"</|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew."
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week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."<|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?"</|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She
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Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."<|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?"</|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured,
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The hounds are meeting on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."<|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?"</|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him.
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on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her."<|quote|>"How did _you_ hear?"</|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now
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A Handful Of Dust
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"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."
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Allan
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her." "How did _you_ hear?"<|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."</|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."
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I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?"<|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."</|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with
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got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?"<|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."</|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just
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The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?"<|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."</|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of
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were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?"<|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."</|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock
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jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?"<|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."</|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed
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on Wednesday, you know." "Are we giving them a lawner?" "Yes, darling, you know we do every year." "So we do." "You couldn't stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?"<|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."</|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep
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at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?"<|quote|>"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."</|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh... I thought everyone knew."
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Brenda
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any questions about them now."<|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."</|quote|>"That's always the trouble with
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on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."<|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."</|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking
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want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."<|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."</|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * *
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* * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."<|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."</|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you
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about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."<|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."</|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on
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helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."<|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."</|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched,
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stay down till then?" "Not possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."<|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."</|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls
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at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now."<|quote|>"Oh... I thought everyone knew."</|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."
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Allan
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"Oh... I thought everyone knew."<|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."</|quote|>"Oh." * * * *
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any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew."<|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."</|quote|>"Oh." * * * * * Later he said to
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you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew."<|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."</|quote|>"Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole
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Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew."<|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."</|quote|>"Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was
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thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew."<|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."</|quote|>"Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine;
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Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew."<|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."</|quote|>"Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the
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possibly, darling. You see if I miss one lecture I get right behind and can't follow the next. Besides, I am not mad keen to see the hounds." "Ben was asking if we'd let John go out." "Oh, he's far too young." "Not to hunt. But I thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew."<|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."</|quote|>"Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to
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with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew."<|quote|>"That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."</|quote|>"Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh."
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Brenda
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of us just aren't interested."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>* * * * *
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everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,
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thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing.
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to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a
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over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then
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Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back
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thought he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda;
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Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested."<|quote|>"Oh."</|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have
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A Handful Of Dust
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* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,
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No speaker
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us just aren't interested." "Oh."<|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,</|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential
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private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh."<|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,</|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I
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everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh."<|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,</|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's
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be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh."<|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,</|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived
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What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh."<|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,</|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days
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Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh."<|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,</|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation
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he might bring his pony to the meet and ride with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh."<|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,</|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few
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for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh."<|quote|>* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,</|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."
|
Allan
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Later he said to Marjorie,<|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."</|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."
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* * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,<|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."</|quote|>"I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right.
|
start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,<|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."</|quote|>"I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde
|
whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,<|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."</|quote|>"I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she
|
was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,<|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."</|quote|>"I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed
|
going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,<|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."</|quote|>"I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re,
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with them to the first covert. He'd love it so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,<|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."</|quote|>"I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank
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the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie,<|quote|>"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."</|quote|>"I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I didn't know you knew."
|
Marjorie
|
confidential about Beaver this evening."<|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."</|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right.
|
Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."<|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."</|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to
|
or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."<|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."</|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony
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her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."<|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."</|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She
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* * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."<|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."</|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of
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"I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."<|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."</|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense
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so." "Is it quite safe?" "Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."<|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."</|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for
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to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening."<|quote|>"I didn't know you knew."</|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."
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Allan
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"I didn't know you knew."<|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."</|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of
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confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew."<|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."</|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you
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that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew."<|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."</|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of
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"My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew."<|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."</|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack
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The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew."<|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."</|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had
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here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew."<|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."</|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you
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"Oh, yes, surely?" "Bless his heart, I wish I could be here to see him." "Do change your mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew."<|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."</|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to
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week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew."<|quote|>"Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."</|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"
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Marjorie
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important by talking about it."<|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"</|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway,
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going to let her feel important by talking about it."<|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"</|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's,
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the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."<|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"</|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere
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any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."<|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"</|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last
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they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."<|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"</|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's
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"I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."<|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"</|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know."
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mind." "Oh no, that's quite out of the question. Don't make a thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."<|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"</|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is
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an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it."<|quote|>"I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"</|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."
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Allan
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thing. Do you know Beaver?"<|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."</|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called
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disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"<|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."</|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived
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* Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"<|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."</|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery,
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the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"<|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."</|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London
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as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"<|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."</|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a
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two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"<|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."</|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find
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thing about it, Tony." That was when she first arrived; later everything got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"<|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."</|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all
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how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?"<|quote|>"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."</|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and
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A Handful Of Dust
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[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.
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No speaker
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business and Tony's, not ours."<|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.</|quote|>"Forty-two minutes," she said, "not
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him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."<|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.</|quote|>"Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the
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Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."<|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.</|quote|>"Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl,
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no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."<|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.</|quote|>"Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I
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getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."<|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.</|quote|>"Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The
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it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."<|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.</|quote|>"Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the
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got better. Jock was there that week-end, also Allan and Marjorie and another married couple whom Tony had known all his life. Brenda had arranged the party for him and he enjoyed it. He and Allan went out with rook rifles and shot rabbits in the twilight; after dinner the four men played billiard fives while one wife watched. "The old boy's happy as a lark," said Brenda to Marjorie. "He's settling down wonderfully to the new r?gime." They came in breathless and rather flushed for whisky and soda. "Tony nearly had one through the window," said Jock. That night Tony slept in Guinevere. "Everything _is_ all right, isn't it?" he said once. "Yes, of course, darling." "I get depressed down here all alone and imagine things." "You aren't to _brood_, Tony. You know that's one of the things that aren't allowed." "I won't brood any more," said Tony. Next day Brenda came to church with him. She had decided to devote the week-end wholly to him; it would be the last for some time. "And how are the abstruse sciences, Lady Brenda?" "Absorbing." "We shall all be coming to you for advice about our overdrafts." "Ha, ha." "And how's Thunderclap?" asked Miss Tendril. "I'm taking her out hunting on Wednesday," said John. He had forgotten Princess Abdul Akbar in the excitement of the coming meet. "Please God make there be a good scent. Please God make me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."<|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.</|quote|>"Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery
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me see the kill. Please God don't let me do anything wrong. God bless Ben and Thunderclap. Please God make me jump an enormous great oxer," he had kept repeating throughout the service. Brenda did the round with Tony of cottages and hothouses; she helped him choose his buttonhole. Tony was in high spirits at luncheon. Brenda had begun to forget how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours."<|quote|>[V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.</|quote|>"Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Forty-two minutes,"
|
Mrs. Rattery
|
and came to meet them.<|quote|>"Forty-two minutes,"</|quote|>she said, "not at all
|
flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.<|quote|>"Forty-two minutes,"</|quote|>she said, "not at all bad with the wind against
|
one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.<|quote|>"Forty-two minutes,"</|quote|>she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk
|
out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.<|quote|>"Forty-two minutes,"</|quote|>she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find
|
in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.<|quote|>"Forty-two minutes,"</|quote|>she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you
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either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.<|quote|>"Forty-two minutes,"</|quote|>she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at
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how amusing he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.<|quote|>"Forty-two minutes,"</|quote|>she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies
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But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them.<|quote|>"Forty-two minutes,"</|quote|>she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
she said,
|
No speaker
|
to meet them. "Forty-two minutes,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"not at all bad with
|
her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me." She
|
the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and
|
dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse.
|
where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was
|
no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping
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he could be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the
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And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank
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A Handful Of Dust
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"not at all bad with the wind against me."
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Mrs. Rattery
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them. "Forty-two minutes," she said,<|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me."</|quote|>She was tall and erect,
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helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said,<|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me."</|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and
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they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said,<|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me."</|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg
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in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said,<|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me."</|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my
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played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said,<|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me."</|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of
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knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said,<|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me."</|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope
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be. Afterwards he changed into other clothes and went with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said,<|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me."</|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and
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and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said,<|quote|>"not at all bad with the wind against me."</|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a
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A Handful Of Dust
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She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.
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No speaker
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with the wind against me."<|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.</|quote|>"Are you going to hunt
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said, "not at all bad with the wind against me."<|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.</|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're
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ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me."<|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.</|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him
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and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me."<|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.</|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your
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hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me."<|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.</|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for
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people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me."<|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.</|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been
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with Jock to play golf. They stayed some time at the clubhouse. Tony said, "We've got the hounds meeting at Hetton on Wednesday. Couldn't you stay down till then?" "Must be back. There's going to be a debate on the Pig Scheme." "I wish you'd stay. Look here, why don't you ask that girl down? Everyone goes to-morrow. You could ring her up, couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me."<|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.</|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been
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those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me."<|quote|>She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.</|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"
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John Andrew
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greetings were deft and impersonal.<|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"</|quote|>asked John. "They're meeting here,
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of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.<|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"</|quote|>asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go
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all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.<|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"</|quote|>asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man
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out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.<|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"</|quote|>asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"
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guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.<|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"</|quote|>asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here
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about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.<|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"</|quote|>asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but
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couldn't you?" "I _could_." "Would she hate it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.<|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"</|quote|>asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny
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average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal.<|quote|>"Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"</|quote|>asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed
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A Handful Of Dust
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asked John.
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No speaker
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going to hunt on Wednesday?"<|quote|>asked John.</|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."
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deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"<|quote|>asked John.</|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for
|
at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"<|quote|>asked John.</|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her
|
out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"<|quote|>asked John.</|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he
|
the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"<|quote|>asked John.</|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it
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the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"<|quote|>asked John.</|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite
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it? She could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"<|quote|>asked John.</|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined
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about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?"<|quote|>asked John.</|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to
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A Handful Of Dust
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"They're meeting here, you know."
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John Andrew
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hunt on Wednesday?" asked John.<|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."</|quote|>"I might go out for
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impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John.<|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."</|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I
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back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John.<|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."</|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to
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the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John.<|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."</|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely
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was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John.<|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."</|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes
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thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John.<|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."</|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is
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could have Lyonesse--Polly slept there two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John.<|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."</|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose
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discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John.<|quote|>"They're meeting here, you know."</|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."
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Mrs. Rattery
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"They're meeting here, you know."<|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."</|quote|>"It's my first time too."
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hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know."<|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."</|quote|>"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly
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had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know."<|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."</|quote|>"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."
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flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know."<|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."</|quote|>"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."
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direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know."<|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."</|quote|>"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have
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"I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know."<|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."</|quote|>"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't
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two week-ends running, so it can't be too uncomfortable." "She'd probably love it. I'll ring up and ask her." "Why don't you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know."<|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."</|quote|>"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If
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them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know."<|quote|>"I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."</|quote|>"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It's my first time too."
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John Andrew
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the first time this year."<|quote|>"It's my first time too."</|quote|>"We shall both be terribly
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find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."<|quote|>"It's my first time too."</|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him
|
Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."<|quote|>"It's my first time too."</|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * *
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against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."<|quote|>"It's my first time too."</|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this
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for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."<|quote|>"It's my first time too."</|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at
|
conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."<|quote|>"It's my first time too."</|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is
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you hunt too? There's a chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."<|quote|>"It's my first time too."</|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death
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she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year."<|quote|>"It's my first time too."</|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"We shall both be terribly stiff."
|
Mrs. Rattery
|
"It's my first time too."<|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff."</|quote|>She spoke to him exactly
|
the first time this year." "It's my first time too."<|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff."</|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a
|
of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too."<|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff."</|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock
|
and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too."<|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff."</|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's
|
bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too."<|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff."</|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind
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from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too."<|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff."</|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The
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chap called Brinkwell who's got some quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too."<|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff."</|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood
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in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too."<|quote|>"We shall both be terribly stiff."</|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work
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A Handful Of Dust
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She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.
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No speaker
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shall both be terribly stiff."<|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.</|quote|>"You'll have to show me
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my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff."<|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.</|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll
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were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff."<|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.</|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to
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and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff."<|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.</|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was
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the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff."<|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.</|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a
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gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff."<|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.</|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought
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quite decent hirelings, I believe." "Yes, I might." * * * * * "Jock's staying on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff."<|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.</|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at
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this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff."<|quote|>She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.</|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You'll have to show me the country."
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Mrs. Rattery
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man of her own age.<|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country."</|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton
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as though he were a man of her own age.<|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country."</|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big
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here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.<|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country."</|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at
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his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.<|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country."</|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner
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with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.<|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country."</|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will
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over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.<|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country."</|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating
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on. He's having the Shameless Blonde down. You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.<|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country."</|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at
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him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age.<|quote|>"You'll have to show me the country."</|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."
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John Andrew
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to show me the country."<|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."</|quote|>* * * * *
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her own age. "You'll have to show me the country."<|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."</|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together,
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for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country."<|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."</|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."
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absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country."<|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."</|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table
|
her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country."<|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."</|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've
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there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country."<|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."</|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of
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You don't mind?" "Me? Of course not." "This _has_ been a jolly week-end." "I thought you were enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country."<|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."</|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored
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Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country."<|quote|>"I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."</|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The
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A Handful Of Dust
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* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,
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No speaker
|
daddy and I saw him."<|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,</|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down.
|
There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."<|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,</|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"
|
"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."<|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,</|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a
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Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."<|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,</|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't
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lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."<|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,</|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not
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an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."<|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,</|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck.
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enjoying it." "Just like old times--before the economics began." * * * * * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."<|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,</|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in
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he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him."<|quote|>* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,</|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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were alone together, Jock said,<|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"</|quote|>"Is he married to that
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* * * When they were alone together, Jock said,<|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"</|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw
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spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,<|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"</|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice
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deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,<|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"</|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here
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and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,<|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"</|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep
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except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,<|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"</|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay
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* * Marjorie said to Jock, "D'you think Tony knows about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,<|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"</|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall
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day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said,<|quote|>"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"</|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"
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Mrs. Rattery
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What d'you think of Tony?"<|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"</|quote|>"Yes." "The one you said
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"It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"<|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"</|quote|>"Yes." "The one you said was in love with that
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of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"<|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"</|quote|>"Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced
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asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"<|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"</|quote|>"Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put
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out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"<|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"</|quote|>"Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and
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had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"<|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"</|quote|>"Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division
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about Mr Beaver?" "Not a thing." "I haven't mentioned it to Allan. D'you suppose he knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"<|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"</|quote|>"Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and
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and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?"<|quote|>"Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"</|quote|>"Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"Yes."
|
Jock Grant-Menzies
|
at the Caf? de Paris?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"The one you said was
|
rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young
|
Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four
|
if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the
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meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found
|
her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of
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knows?" "I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting
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"Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country,
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"The one you said was in love with that young man?"
|
Mrs. Rattery
|
the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."<|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Funny of her... What's
|
lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."<|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony
|
Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."<|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room
|
I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."<|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,
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them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."<|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining
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again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."<|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a
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"I doubt it." "Oh, Jock, how d'you think it'll end?" "She'll get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."<|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the
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* * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes."<|quote|>"The one you said was in love with that young man?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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love with that young man?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this
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one you said was in love with that young man?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last.
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him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table
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year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have
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wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in.
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six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent
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get bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press
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lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"
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Mrs. Rattery
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with that young man?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"</|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty
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you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"</|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is
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* * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"</|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed
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"It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"</|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes."
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against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"</|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon
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or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"</|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were
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bored with Beaver soon enough." "The trouble is that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"</|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a
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at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"</|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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What's this one's name again?"<|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"</|quote|>"Is it? I never notice
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man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"<|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"</|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an
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alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"<|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"</|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she
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be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"<|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"</|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"
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austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"<|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"</|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look
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hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"<|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"</|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance,
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that he doesn't care for her in the least. If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"<|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"</|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms
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interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?"<|quote|>"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"</|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"Is it? I never notice houses much."
|
Mrs. Rattery
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pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"<|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much."</|quote|>She was an easy guest
|
again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"<|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much."</|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on
|
What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"<|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much."</|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it
|
though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"<|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much."</|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is
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Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"<|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much."</|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to
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she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"<|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much."</|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour,
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If he did, it would soon be over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"<|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much."</|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers
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rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?"<|quote|>"Is it? I never notice houses much."</|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular;
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A Handful Of Dust
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She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.
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No speaker
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I never notice houses much."<|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.</|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"
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house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much."<|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.</|quote|>"Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay
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married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much."<|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.</|quote|>"Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind
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own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much."<|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.</|quote|>"Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did
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back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much."<|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.</|quote|>"Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or
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then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much."<|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.</|quote|>"Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a
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over... What an ass she is being." "I should say she was managing it unusually well, if you ask me." * * * * * The other married couple said to each other, "D'you think Marjorie and Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much."<|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.</|quote|>"Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood.
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from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much."<|quote|>She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.</|quote|>"Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Don't wait up for me,"
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Mrs. Rattery
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her engrossed all the evening.<|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"</|quote|>she said. "I shall stay
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very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.<|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"</|quote|>she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out.
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a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.<|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"</|quote|>she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see
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said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.<|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"</|quote|>she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until
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were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.<|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"</|quote|>she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able
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first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.<|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"</|quote|>she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense.
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Allan know about Brenda?" "I'm sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.<|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"</|quote|>she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the
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John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening.<|quote|>"Don't wait up for me,"</|quote|>she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the
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A Handful Of Dust
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she said.
|
No speaker
|
"Don't wait up for me,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I shall stay here until
|
her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often
|
it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not
|
down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony
|
you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay
|
had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself
|
sure they don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive
|
wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position,
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."
|
Mrs. Rattery
|
up for me," she said.<|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."</|quote|>They showed her where to
|
all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said.<|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."</|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and
|
it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said.<|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."</|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them,
|
d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said.<|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."</|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I
|
to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said.<|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."</|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the
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in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said.<|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."</|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another
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don't." * * * * * Brenda said to Allan, "Tony's as happy as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said.<|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."</|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then
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helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said.<|quote|>"I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."</|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of
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A Handful Of Dust
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They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,
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No speaker
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It often takes several hours."<|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,</|quote|>"Have you got any pigs
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here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."<|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,</|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would
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After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."<|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,</|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him.
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saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."<|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,</|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining
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go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."<|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,</|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she
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boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."<|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,</|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day
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as a sandboy, isn't he?" "Full of beans." "I was getting worried about him... You don't think he's got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."<|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,</|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and
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greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours."<|quote|>They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,</|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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it. Next day Jock said,<|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Would you mind if
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out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,<|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"
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table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,<|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs,
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"Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,<|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the
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year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,<|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what
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landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,<|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely
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got any idea about my goings on?" "Lord no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,<|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a
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against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said,<|quote|>"Have you got any pigs at the farm?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes."
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Tony Last
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any pigs at the farm?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Would you mind if I
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Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not
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engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly
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again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon
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both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my
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damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet
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no. It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit
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were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Would you mind if I went to see them?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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pigs at the farm?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?"</|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"
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said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?"</|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man
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all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?"</|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon.
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"Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?"</|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look
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be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?"</|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going
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leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?"</|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in
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It's the last thing that would come into his head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?"</|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose
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bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Would you mind if I went to see them?"</|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Not in the least--but why?"
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Tony Last
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I went to see them?"<|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"</|quote|>"And is there a man
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"Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"<|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"</|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who
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said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"<|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"</|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep
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"Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"<|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"</|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony
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though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"<|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"</|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told
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five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"<|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"</|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting
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head." Brenda said, "I don't want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"<|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"</|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks
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for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?"<|quote|>"Not in the least--but why?"</|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on
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A Handful Of Dust
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"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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"Not in the least--but why?"<|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Well, I think I'll
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I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?"<|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him.
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until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?"<|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the
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houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?"<|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the
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of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?"<|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week.
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ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?"<|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one,
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want him to be unhappy, you know... Marjorie's been frightfully governessy about the whole thing." "Has she? I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?"<|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the
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Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?"<|quote|>"And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"</|quote|>"Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes."
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Tony Last
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able to explain about them?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend
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after them, who will be able to explain about them?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've
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out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men
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of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end
|
first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You
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one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was
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I haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes
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almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."
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Jock Grant-Menzies
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to explain about them?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."</|quote|>They did not see Mrs
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them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."</|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed
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and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."</|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they
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cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."</|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next
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There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."</|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't
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of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."</|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a
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haven't discussed it with her." "How did _you_ hear?" "My dear girl, until this minute I didn't know you had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."</|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have
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American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes."<|quote|>"Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."</|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the
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A Handful Of Dust
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They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.
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No speaker
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speech about pigs, fairly soon."<|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.</|quote|>"I was down early," she
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I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."<|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.</|quote|>"I was down early," she explained, "and found the men
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you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."<|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.</|quote|>"I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing
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the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."<|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.</|quote|>"I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not
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together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."<|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.</|quote|>"I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton,
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monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."<|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.</|quote|>"I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country
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had any goings on. And I'm not asking any questions about them now." "Oh... I thought everyone knew." "That's always the trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."<|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.</|quote|>"I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to
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and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon."<|quote|>They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.</|quote|>"I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"I was down early,"
|
Mrs. Rattery
|
in overalls from the morning-room.<|quote|>"I was down early,"</|quote|>she explained, "and found the
|
was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.<|quote|>"I was down early,"</|quote|>she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the
|
them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.<|quote|>"I was down early,"</|quote|>she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past
|
hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.<|quote|>"I was down early,"</|quote|>she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we
|
we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.<|quote|>"I was down early,"</|quote|>she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had,
|
of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.<|quote|>"I was down early,"</|quote|>she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of
|
trouble with people when they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.<|quote|>"I was down early,"</|quote|>she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you
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land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room.<|quote|>"I was down early,"</|quote|>she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
she explained,
|
No speaker
|
morning-room. "I was down early,"<|quote|>she explained,</|quote|>"and found the men at
|
appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early,"<|quote|>she explained,</|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I
|
able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early,"<|quote|>she explained,</|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks.
|
where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early,"<|quote|>she explained,</|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene
|
Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early,"<|quote|>she explained,</|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the
|
and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early,"<|quote|>she explained,</|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had
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they start walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early,"<|quote|>she explained,</|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my
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sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early,"<|quote|>she explained,</|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of
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A Handful Of Dust
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"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."
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Mrs. Rattery
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was down early," she explained,<|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."</|quote|>In the afternoon they went
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overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained,<|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."</|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables
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explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained,<|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."</|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you
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put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained,<|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."</|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is
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Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained,<|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."</|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near
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to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained,<|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."</|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind
|
walking out. They either think no one knows, or everybody. The truth is that a few people like Polly and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained,<|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."</|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him. "If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line
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to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained,<|quote|>"and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."</|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on
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A Handful Of Dust
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In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.
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No speaker
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I hope you don't mind."<|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.</|quote|>"If I'm in at the
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I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."<|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.</|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch
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about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."<|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.</|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She
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the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."<|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.</|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the
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one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."<|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.</|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and
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and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."<|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.</|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once,
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and Sybil make a point of finding out about everyone's private life; the rest of us just aren't interested." "Oh." * * * * * Later he said to Marjorie, "Brenda tried to be confidential about Beaver this evening." "I didn't know you knew." "Oh, I knew all right. But I wasn't going to let her feel important by talking about it." "I couldn't disapprove more of the whole thing. Do you know Beaver?" "I've seen him about. Anyway, it's her business and Tony's, not ours." [V] Jock's blonde was called Mrs Rattery. Tony had conceived an idea of her from what he overheard of Polly's gossip and from various fragments of information let fall by Jock. She was a little over thirty. Somewhere in the Cottesmore country there lived a long-legged, slightly discredited Major Rattery, to whom she had once been married. She was an American by origin, now totally denationalized, rich, without property or possessions, except those that would pack in five vast trunks. Jock had had his eye on her last summer at Biarritz and had fallen in with her again in London where she played big bridge, very ably, for six or seven hours a day and changed her hotel, on an average, once every three weeks. Periodically she was liable to bouts of morphine; then she gave up her bridge and remained for several days at a time alone in her hotel suite, refreshed at intervals with glasses of cold milk. She arrived by air on Monday afternoon. It was the first time that a guest had come in this fashion and the household was appreciably excited. Under Jock's direction the boiler man and one of the gardeners pegged out a dust sheet in the park to mark a landing for her and lit a bonfire of damp leaves to show the direction of the wind. The five trunks arrived in the ordinary way by train, with an elderly, irreproachable maid. She brought her own sheets with her in one of the trunks; they were neither silk nor coloured, without lace or ornament of any kind, except small, plain monograms. Tony, Jock and John went out to watch her land. She climbed out of the cockpit, stretched, unbuttoned the flaps of her leather helmet, and came to meet them. "Forty-two minutes," she said, "not at all bad with the wind against me." She was tall and erect, almost austere in helmet and overalls; not at all as Tony had imagined her. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he had secreted the slightly absurd expectation of a chorus girl, in silk shorts and brassi?re, popping out of an immense beribboned Easter egg with a cry of "Whoopee, boys." Mrs Rattery's greetings were deft and impersonal. "Are you going to hunt on Wednesday?" asked John. "They're meeting here, you know." "I might go out for half the day, if I can find a horse. It'll be the first time this year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."<|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.</|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait
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Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind."<|quote|>In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.</|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me." "You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling
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A Handful Of Dust
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"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."
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John Andrew
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of temper while dressing him.<|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."</|quote|>"You won't see any death,"
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day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.<|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."</|quote|>"You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood
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square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.<|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."</|quote|>"You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in
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on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.<|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."</|quote|>"You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways
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cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.<|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."</|quote|>"You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working,
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hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.<|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."</|quote|>"You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him
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year." "It's my first time too." "We shall both be terribly stiff." She spoke to him exactly as though he were a man of her own age. "You'll have to show me the country." "I expect they'll draw Bruton Wood first. There's a big fox there, daddy and I saw him." * * * * * When they were alone together, Jock said, "It's delightful your coming down. What d'you think of Tony?" "Is he married to that rather lovely woman we saw at the Caf? de Paris?" "Yes." "The one you said was in love with that young man?" "Yes." "Funny of her... What's this one's name again?" "Tony Last. It's a pretty ghastly house, isn't it?" "Is it? I never notice houses much." She was an easy guest to entertain. After dinner on Monday she produced four packs of cards and laid out for herself on the smoking-room table a very elaborate patience, which kept her engrossed all the evening. "Don't wait up for me," she said. "I shall stay here until it comes out. It often takes several hours." They showed her where to put the lights out and left her to it. Next day Jock said, "Have you got any pigs at the farm?" "Yes." "Would you mind if I went to see them?" "Not in the least--but why?" "And is there a man who looks after them, who will be able to explain about them?" "Yes." "Well, I think I'll spend the morning with him. I've got to make a speech about pigs, fairly soon." They did not see Mrs Rattery until luncheon. Tony assumed she was asleep until she appeared in overalls from the morning-room. "I was down early," she explained, "and found the men at work stripping the ceiling. I couldn't resist joining in. I hope you don't mind." In the afternoon they went to a neighbouring livery stables to look for hirelings. After tea Tony wrote to Brenda; he had taken to writing letters in the past few weeks. How enjoyable the week-end was [he wrote]. Thank you a thousand times for all your sweetness. I wish you were coming down next week-end, or that you had been able to stay on a little, but I quite understand. The Shameless Blonde is not the least what we expected--very serene and distant. Not at all like Jock's usual taste. I am sure she hasn't any idea where she is or what my name is. The work in the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.<|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."</|quote|>"You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't you worry, my beauty," he said to John, "you'll get a hunt right enough." They waited until the end of the line of horses and then trotted soberly behind them. Close at their heels followed the motor-cars, at low gear, in a fog of exhaust. John was breathless and slightly dizzy. Thunderclap was tossing her head and worrying at her snaffle. Twice while the field was moving off she had tried to get away and had taken John round in a little circle, so that Ben had said, "Hold on to her, son" ", and had come up close beside him so as to be able to catch the reins if she looked like bolting. Once, boring forwards with her head, she took John by surprise and pulled him forwards out of his balance; he caught hold of the front of the saddle to steady himself and looked guiltily at Ben. "I'm afraid I'm riding very badly to-day. D'you think anyone has noticed?" "That's all right, son. You can't keep riding-school manners when you're hunting." Jock and Mrs Rattery trotted side by side. "I rather like this absurd horse," she said. She rode astride and it was evident from the moment she mounted that she rode extremely well. The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter of a mile of them. Half-way through the village Miss Ripon had difficulties in getting past a stationary baker's van. Her horse plunged and reared, trembling all over, turning about and slipping frantically over the tarmac. They rode round her, giving his heels the widest berth, scowling ominously and grumbling about her. They all knew that horse. Miss Ripon's father had been trying to sell him all the season, and had lately come down to eighty pounds. He was a good jumper on occasions but a beast of a horse to ride. Did Miss Ripon's father really imagine he was improving his chances of a sale by letting Miss Ripon make an exhibition of herself? It was like that skinflint, Miss Ripon's father, to risk Miss Ripon's neck for eighty pounds. And, anyway, Miss Ripon had no business out on _any_ horse... Presently she shot past them at a gallop; she was flushed in the face and her bun was askew; she leant back, pulling with all her weight. "That girl will come to no good," said Jock. They encountered her later at the covert. Her horse was sweating and lathered at the bridle but temporarily at rest, cropping the tufts of sedge that lay round the woods. Miss Ripon was much out of breath, and her hands shook as she fiddled with veil, bun and bowler. John rode up to Jock's side. "What's happening, Mr Grant-Menzies?" "Hounds are drawing the covert." "Oh." "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Oh, yes. Thunderclap's terribly fresh. I've never known her like this." There was a long wait as the horn sounded in the heart of the wood. Everyone stood in
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the morning-room is going on well. The foreman told me to-day he thought he would begin on the chromium plating by the end of the week. You know what I think about that. John can talk of nothing except his hunting to-morrow. I hope he doesn't break his neck. Jock and his S.B. are going out too. Hetton lay near the boundary of three packs; the Pigstanton, who hunted it, had, in the division of territory, come off with the worst country and they cherished a permanent resentment about some woods near Bayton. They were a somewhat ill-tempered lot, contemptuous of each other's performance, hostile to strangers, torn by internal rancour, united only in their dislike of the Master. In the case of Colonel Inch this unpopularity, traditional to the hunt, was quite undeserved; he was a timid, inconspicuous man who provided the neighbourhood with sport of a kind at great personal expense. He himself was seldom in sight of hounds and could often be found in another part of the country morosely nibbling ginger-nut biscuits in a lane or towards the end of the day cantering heavily across country, quite lost, a lonely scarlet figure against the ploughed land, staring about him in the deepening twilight and shouting at yokels for information. The only pleasure he gained from his position, but that a substantial one, was in referring to it casually at Board Meetings of the various companies he directed. The Pigstanton met twice a week. There was seldom a large field on Wednesday, but the Hetton meet was popular; it lay in their best country and the prospect of stirrup-cups had drawn many leathery old ladies from the neighbouring packs. There were also followers on foot and in every kind of vehicle, some hanging back diffidently, others, more or less known to Tony, crowding round the refreshment table. Mr Tendril had a niece staying with him, who appeared on a motor bicycle. John stood beside Thunderclap, solemn with excitement. Ben had secured a powerful, square-headed mare from a neighbouring farmer; he hoped to have a hunt after John had been taken home; at John's earnest entreaty nanny was confined indoors, among the housemaids whose heads obtruded at the upper windows; it was not her day. She had been out of temper while dressing him.<|quote|>"If I'm in at the death I expect Colonel Inch will blood me."</|quote|>"You won't see any death," said nanny. Now she stood with her eyes at an arrow slit gazing rather resentfully at the animated scene below. "It's all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's," she thought. She deplored it all, hounds, Master, field, huntsman and whippers-in, Mr Tendril's niece in her mackintosh, Jock in a rat-catcher, Mrs Rattery in tall hat and cutaway coat, oblivious of the suspicious glances of the subscribers, Tony smiling and chatting to his guests, the crazy old man with the terriers, the Press photographer, pretty Miss Ripon in difficulties with a young horse, titupping sideways over the lawn, the grooms and second horses, the humble, unknown followers in the background--it was all a lot of nonsense of Ben Hacket's. "It was after eleven before the child got to sleep last night," she reflected, "he was that over-excited." Presently they moved off towards Bruton Wood. The way lay down the south drive through Compton Last, along the main road for half a mile, and then through fields. "He can ride with them as far as the covert," Tony had said. "Yes, sir, and there'd be no harm in his stayin' a bit to see hounds working, would there?" "No, I suppose not." "And if he breaks away towards home, there'd be no harm in our following a bit, if we keeps to the lanes and gates, would there, sir?" "No, but he's not to stay out more than an hour." "You wouldn't have me take him home with hounds running, would you, sir?" "Well, he's got to be in before one." "I'll see to that, sir. Don't
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