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"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."
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Tony Last
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Last, and that's the truth."<|quote|>"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."</|quote|>"Fond of kids myself," said
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I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth."<|quote|>"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."</|quote|>"Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to
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There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth."<|quote|>"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."</|quote|>"Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do
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_not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth."<|quote|>"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."</|quote|>"Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly
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Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth."<|quote|>"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."</|quote|>"Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I
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got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth."<|quote|>"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."</|quote|>"Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out,
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"Listen," he said. "You don't want to come to a nasty big hotel. You go with this kind gentleman here. He'll take you to a shop and let you choose the biggest doll you can find and then he'll drive you back in his motor to your home. You'll like that, won't you?" "No," said Winnie. "I want to go to the seaside. I won't go with that man. I don't want a doll. I want to go to the seaside with my mummy." Several people besides the detectives were beginning to take notice of the oddly assorted group. "Oh God!" said Tony. "I suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth."<|quote|>"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."</|quote|>"Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said.
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have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth."<|quote|>"You can't feel more strongly about it than I do."</|quote|>"Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of
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A Handful Of Dust
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said James, who was new to this kind of work.
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No speaker
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do." "Fond of kids myself,"<|quote|>said James, who was new to this kind of work.</|quote|>"How about one with us?"
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strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself,"<|quote|>said James, who was new to this kind of work.</|quote|>"How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when
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the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself,"<|quote|>said James, who was new to this kind of work.</|quote|>"How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young
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it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself,"<|quote|>said James, who was new to this kind of work.</|quote|>"How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an
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to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself,"<|quote|>said James, who was new to this kind of work.</|quote|>"How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed
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up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself,"<|quote|>said James, who was new to this kind of work.</|quote|>"How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of
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go with this kind gentleman here. He'll take you to a shop and let you choose the biggest doll you can find and then he'll drive you back in his motor to your home. You'll like that, won't you?" "No," said Winnie. "I want to go to the seaside. I won't go with that man. I don't want a doll. I want to go to the seaside with my mummy." Several people besides the detectives were beginning to take notice of the oddly assorted group. "Oh God!" said Tony. "I suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself,"<|quote|>said James, who was new to this kind of work.</|quote|>"How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well,
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indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself,"<|quote|>said James, who was new to this kind of work.</|quote|>"How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Tell me,"
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Tony Last
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"How about one with us?"<|quote|>"Tell me,"</|quote|>said Tony, when they had
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to this kind of work. "How about one with us?"<|quote|>"Tell me,"</|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some
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courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?"<|quote|>"Tell me,"</|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read
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very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?"<|quote|>"Tell me,"</|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want
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respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?"<|quote|>"Tell me,"</|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite
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Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?"<|quote|>"Tell me,"</|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in
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choose the biggest doll you can find and then he'll drive you back in his motor to your home. You'll like that, won't you?" "No," said Winnie. "I want to go to the seaside. I won't go with that man. I don't want a doll. I want to go to the seaside with my mummy." Several people besides the detectives were beginning to take notice of the oddly assorted group. "Oh God!" said Tony. "I suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?"<|quote|>"Tell me,"</|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do
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"Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?"<|quote|>"Tell me,"</|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.
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No speaker
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one with us?" "Tell me,"<|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.</|quote|>"You must have observed numerous
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kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me,"<|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.</|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying
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blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me,"<|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.</|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some
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on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me,"<|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.</|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You
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the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me,"<|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.</|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from
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"Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me,"<|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.</|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more
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biggest doll you can find and then he'll drive you back in his motor to your home. You'll like that, won't you?" "No," said Winnie. "I want to go to the seaside. I won't go with that man. I don't want a doll. I want to go to the seaside with my mummy." Several people besides the detectives were beginning to take notice of the oddly assorted group. "Oh God!" said Tony. "I suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me,"<|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.</|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I
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did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me,"<|quote|>said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.</|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"
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Tony Last
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their table some little time.<|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"</|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"
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when they had been at their table some little time.<|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"</|quote|>"It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies
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it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.<|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"</|quote|>"It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in
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me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.<|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"</|quote|>"It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were
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detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.<|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"</|quote|>"It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under
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and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.<|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"</|quote|>"It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony,
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his motor to your home. You'll like that, won't you?" "No," said Winnie. "I want to go to the seaside. I won't go with that man. I don't want a doll. I want to go to the seaside with my mummy." Several people besides the detectives were beginning to take notice of the oddly assorted group. "Oh God!" said Tony. "I suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.<|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"</|quote|>"It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge.
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Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time.<|quote|>"You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"</|quote|>"It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"It's easier in the summer,"
|
The Detective
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they get through their day?"<|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"</|quote|>said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies
|
divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"<|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"</|quote|>said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen
|
James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"<|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"</|quote|>said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came
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servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"<|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"</|quote|>said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in
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a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"<|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"</|quote|>said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his
|
to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"<|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"</|quote|>said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before
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go with that man. I don't want a doll. I want to go to the seaside with my mummy." Several people besides the detectives were beginning to take notice of the oddly assorted group. "Oh God!" said Tony. "I suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"<|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"</|quote|>said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said
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his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?"<|quote|>"It's easier in the summer,"</|quote|>said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Blenkinsop,
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No speaker
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"It's easier in the summer,"<|quote|>said Blenkinsop,</|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe
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they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer,"<|quote|>said Blenkinsop,</|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the
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this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer,"<|quote|>said Blenkinsop,</|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've
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happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer,"<|quote|>said Blenkinsop,</|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right
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job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer,"<|quote|>said Blenkinsop,</|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.
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Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer,"<|quote|>said Blenkinsop,</|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror,
|
don't want a doll. I want to go to the seaside with my mummy." Several people besides the detectives were beginning to take notice of the oddly assorted group. "Oh God!" said Tony. "I suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer,"<|quote|>said Blenkinsop,</|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan
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Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer,"<|quote|>said Blenkinsop,</|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping
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A Handful Of Dust
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"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."
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The Detective
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in the summer," said Blenkinsop,<|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."</|quote|>* * * * *
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through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop,<|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."</|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were
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of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop,<|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."</|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr
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strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop,<|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."</|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not
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Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop,<|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."</|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by
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you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop,<|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."</|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he
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a doll. I want to go to the seaside with my mummy." Several people besides the detectives were beginning to take notice of the oddly assorted group. "Oh God!" said Tony. "I suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop,<|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."</|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he
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with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop,<|quote|>"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."</|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of
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A Handful Of Dust
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* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.
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No speaker
|
mostly glad when Monday comes."<|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.</|quote|>"I've ordered an ice," said
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hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."<|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.</|quote|>"I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want
|
a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."<|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.</|quote|>"I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their
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strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."<|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.</|quote|>"I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my
|
couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."<|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.</|quote|>"I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just
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two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."<|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.</|quote|>"I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a
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suppose she's got to come." The detectives followed at a distance down the platform. Tony settled his companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."<|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.</|quote|>"I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good
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"And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes."<|quote|>* * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.</|quote|>"I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"I've ordered an ice,"
|
Milly
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sitting-room when Tony came up.<|quote|>"I've ordered an ice,"</|quote|>said Milly. "Quite right." "I
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her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.<|quote|>"I've ordered an ice,"</|quote|>said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want
|
Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.<|quote|>"I've ordered an ice,"</|quote|>said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't,
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kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.<|quote|>"I've ordered an ice,"</|quote|>said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to
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looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.<|quote|>"I've ordered an ice,"</|quote|>said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just
|
askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.<|quote|>"I've ordered an ice,"</|quote|>said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had
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companions in a Pullman car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.<|quote|>"I've ordered an ice,"</|quote|>said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said
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a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up.<|quote|>"I've ordered an ice,"</|quote|>said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Milly.
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No speaker
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up. "I've ordered an ice,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"Quite right." "I want late
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the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner."
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usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose,
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about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering
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of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_
|
case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in
|
car. "Look," said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like
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on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Quite right."
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Tony Last
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ordered an ice," said Milly.<|quote|>"Quite right."</|quote|>"I want late dinner. I
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when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly.<|quote|>"Quite right."</|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear,
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and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly.<|quote|>"Quite right."</|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining
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with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly.<|quote|>"Quite right."</|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop
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kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly.<|quote|>"Quite right."</|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well,
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to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly.<|quote|>"Quite right."</|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world
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said Milly, "we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly.<|quote|>"Quite right."</|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said
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Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly.<|quote|>"Quite right."</|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."
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Winnie
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ice," said Milly. "Quite right."<|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."</|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner.
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came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right."<|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."</|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up
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gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right."<|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."</|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied
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"Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right."<|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."</|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When
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very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right."<|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."</|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll
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happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right."<|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."</|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though
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"we're travelling first-class. Isn't that fun? We can have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right."<|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."</|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan
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kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right."<|quote|>"I want late dinner. I want late dinner."</|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."
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Milly
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dinner. I want late dinner."<|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."</|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.
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"Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner."<|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."</|quote|>Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did
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goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner."<|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."</|quote|>Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no,
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at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner."<|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."</|quote|>Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience;
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course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner."<|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."</|quote|>Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they
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their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner."<|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."</|quote|>Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of
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have tea." "Can I have an ice?" "I don't expect they've got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner."<|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."</|quote|>Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some
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colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner."<|quote|>"No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."</|quote|>Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving
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A Handful Of Dust
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Tony returned to the bar.
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No speaker
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have an ice up here."<|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.</|quote|>"Mr James," he said. "Did
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dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."<|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.</|quote|>"Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say
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They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."<|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.</|quote|>"Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would
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couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."<|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.</|quote|>"Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job
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is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."<|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.</|quote|>"Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."
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evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."<|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.</|quote|>"Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or
|
got an ice. But you can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."<|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.</|quote|>"Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby
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was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here."<|quote|>Tony returned to the bar.</|quote|>"Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Mr James,"
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Tony Last
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Tony returned to the bar.<|quote|>"Mr James,"</|quote|>he said. "Did I understand
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have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar.<|quote|>"Mr James,"</|quote|>he said. "Did I understand you to say you were
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comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar.<|quote|>"Mr James,"</|quote|>he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find
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for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar.<|quote|>"Mr James,"</|quote|>he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he
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a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar.<|quote|>"Mr James,"</|quote|>he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she
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Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar.<|quote|>"Mr James,"</|quote|>he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to
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can have some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar.<|quote|>"Mr James,"</|quote|>he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to
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you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar.<|quote|>"Mr James,"</|quote|>he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said.
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No speaker
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to the bar. "Mr James,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Did I understand you to
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ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of
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* * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful."
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divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James
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about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked
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paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were
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some nice tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room;
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a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."
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Tony Last
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bar. "Mr James," he said.<|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."</|quote|>"Yes, in their right place."
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here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said.<|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."</|quote|>"Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider
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* * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said.<|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."</|quote|>"Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not
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me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said.<|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."</|quote|>"Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to
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in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said.<|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."</|quote|>"Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's
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expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said.<|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."</|quote|>"Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no
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tea." "But I want an ice." "You shall have an ice when you get to Brighton. Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said.<|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."</|quote|>"Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to
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all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said.<|quote|>"Did I understand you to say you were fond of children."</|quote|>"Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table;
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."
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Tony Last
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"Yes, in their right place."<|quote|>"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."</|quote|>"Oh no, sir, hardly that."
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you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place."<|quote|>"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."</|quote|>"Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me
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an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place."<|quote|>"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."</|quote|>"Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of
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young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place."<|quote|>"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."</|quote|>"Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or
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one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place."<|quote|>"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."</|quote|>"Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening
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"Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place."<|quote|>"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."</|quote|>"Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears.
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Now be a good girl and play with your puzzle or mother won't take you to the seaside again." "The Awful Child of popular fiction," said Jock as he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place."<|quote|>"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."</|quote|>"Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she
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can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place."<|quote|>"You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness."</|quote|>"Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You would not find me ungrateful."
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Tony Last
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"Oh no, sir, hardly that."<|quote|>"You would not find me ungrateful."</|quote|>"Well, sir, I don't want
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it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that."<|quote|>"You would not find me ungrateful."</|quote|>"Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's
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the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that."<|quote|>"You would not find me ungrateful."</|quote|>"Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James
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when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that."<|quote|>"You would not find me ungrateful."</|quote|>"Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie
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can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that."<|quote|>"You would not find me ungrateful."</|quote|>"Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached
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sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that."<|quote|>"You would not find me ungrateful."</|quote|>"Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly
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he left Tony. Winnie sustained the part throughout the journey to Brighton. She was not inventive but she knew the classic routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that."<|quote|>"You would not find me ungrateful."</|quote|>"Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all
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you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that."<|quote|>"You would not find me ungrateful."</|quote|>"Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad
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A Handful Of Dust
|
He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.
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No speaker
|
not part of my duties."<|quote|>He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.</|quote|>"Quite out of the question,
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to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties."<|quote|>He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.</|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them
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place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties."<|quote|>He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.</|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the
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ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties."<|quote|>He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.</|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps
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of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties."<|quote|>He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.</|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls
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what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties."<|quote|>He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.</|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm,
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routine thoroughly, even to such commonplace but alarming devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties."<|quote|>He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.</|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end
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paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties."<|quote|>He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.</|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Quite out of the question, sir."
|
The Detective
|
be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.<|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir."</|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop
|
my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.<|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir."</|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of
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with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.<|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir."</|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a
|
want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.<|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir."</|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you...
|
me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.<|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir."</|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the
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said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.<|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir."</|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the
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devices as breathing heavily, grunting and complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.<|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir."</|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl
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raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed.<|quote|>"Quite out of the question, sir."</|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad
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A Handful Of Dust
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When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.
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No speaker
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out of the question, sir."<|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.</|quote|>"Our trouble is always the
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wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir."<|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.</|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize
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accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir."<|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.</|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as
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dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir."<|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.</|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before
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been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir."<|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.</|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror,
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Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir."<|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.</|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of
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complaining of nausea. * * * * * Rooms at the hotel had been engaged for Tony by the solicitors. It was therefore a surprise to the reception clerk when Winnie arrived. "We have reserved in your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir."<|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.</|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with
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the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir."<|quote|>When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.</|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."
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The Detective
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to put his junior wise.<|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."</|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the
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he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.<|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."</|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices,
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He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.<|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."</|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have
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place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.<|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."</|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a
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"the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.<|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."</|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even
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Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.<|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."</|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing
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your name double and single communicating rooms, bathroom and sitting-room," he said. "We did not understand you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.<|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."</|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and
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They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise.<|quote|>"Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."</|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the
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A Handful Of Dust
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Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.
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No speaker
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divorce is a serious matter."<|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.</|quote|>"How are we going to
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make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."<|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.</|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just
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left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."<|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.</|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner
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I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."<|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.</|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her
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for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."<|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.</|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed
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usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."<|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.</|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a
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you were bringing your daughter. Will you require a further room?" "Oh, Winnie can come in with me," said Milly. The two detectives who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."<|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.</|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her,
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as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter."<|quote|>Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.</|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was
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A Handful Of Dust
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"How are we going to sleep?"
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Milly
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Winnie to go to bed.<|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?"</|quote|>asked Milly. "Oh, just as
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depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.<|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?"</|quote|>asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_
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and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.<|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?"</|quote|>asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to
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want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.<|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?"</|quote|>asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some
|
her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.<|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?"</|quote|>asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his
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Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.<|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?"</|quote|>asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in
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who were standing nearby at the counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.<|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?"</|quote|>asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an
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a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed.<|quote|>"How are we going to sleep?"</|quote|>asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been
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A Handful Of Dust
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asked Milly.
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No speaker
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are we going to sleep?"<|quote|>asked Milly.</|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."
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to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?"<|quote|>asked Milly.</|quote|>"Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well,
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to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?"<|quote|>asked Milly.</|quote|>"Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise
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not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?"<|quote|>asked Milly.</|quote|>"Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on
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when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?"<|quote|>asked Milly.</|quote|>"Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room;
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irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?"<|quote|>asked Milly.</|quote|>"Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."
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counter exchanged glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?"<|quote|>asked Milly.</|quote|>"Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the
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kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?"<|quote|>asked Milly.</|quote|>"Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh, just as you like."
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Tony Last
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going to sleep?" asked Milly.<|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."</|quote|>"Just as _you_ like." "Well,
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to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly.<|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."</|quote|>"Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier
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his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly.<|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."</|quote|>"Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went
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of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly.<|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."</|quote|>"Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of
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came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly.<|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."</|quote|>"Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he
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injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly.<|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."</|quote|>"Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals
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glances of disapproval. Tony wrote _Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly.<|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."</|quote|>"Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure
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in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly.<|quote|>"Oh, just as you like."</|quote|>"Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Just as _you_ like."
|
Milly
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"Oh, just as you like."<|quote|>"Just as _you_ like."</|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be
|
going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like."<|quote|>"Just as _you_ like."</|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have
|
is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like."<|quote|>"Just as _you_ like."</|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A
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to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like."<|quote|>"Just as _you_ like."</|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large
|
ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like."<|quote|>"Just as _you_ like."</|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a
|
cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like."<|quote|>"Just as _you_ like."</|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of
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_Mr and Mrs Last_ in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like."<|quote|>"Just as _you_ like."</|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to
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very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like."<|quote|>"Just as _you_ like."</|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."
|
Tony Last
|
like." "Just as _you_ like."<|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."</|quote|>So she was tucked up
|
Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like."<|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."</|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the
|
make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like."<|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."</|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly
|
Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like."<|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."</|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active
|
right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like."<|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."</|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or
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depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like."<|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."</|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat
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in the Visitors' Book. "And daughter," said the clerk with his finger on the place. Tony hesitated. "She is my niece," he said, and inscribed her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like."<|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."</|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with.
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irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like."<|quote|>"Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."</|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a
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A Handful Of Dust
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So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.
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No speaker
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bring in breakfast, of course."<|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.</|quote|>"Charming," he said, "perfectly charming.
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room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."<|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.</|quote|>"Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to
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by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."<|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.</|quote|>"Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry,
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that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."<|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.</|quote|>"Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained
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"Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."<|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.</|quote|>"Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the
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a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."<|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.</|quote|>"Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a
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her name on another line, as _Miss Smith_. The detective, registering below, remarked to his colleague, "He got out of that all right. Quite smart. But I don't like the look of this case. Most irregular. Sets a nasty, respectable note bringing a kid into it. We've got the firm to consider. It doesn't do them any good to get mixed up with the King's Proctor." "How about a quick one?" said his colleague indifferently. Upstairs, Winnie said, "Where's the sea?" "Just there across the street." "I want to go and see it." "But it's dark now, pet. You shall see it to-morrow." "I want to see it to-night." "You take her to see it now," said Tony. "Sure you won't be lonely?" "Quite sure." "We won't be long." "That's all right. You let her see it properly." Tony went down to the bar where he was pleased to find the two detectives. He felt the need of male company. "Good evening," he said. They looked at him askance. Everything in this case seemed to be happening as though with deliberate design to shock their professional feelings. "Good evening," said the senior detective. "Nasty, raw evening." "Have a drink." Since Tony was paying their expenses in any case, the offer seemed superfluous, but the junior detective brightened instinctively and said, "Don't mind if I do." "Come and sit down. I feel rather lonely." They took their drinks to a table out of hearing of the barman. "Mr Last, sir, this is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."<|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.</|quote|>"Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that
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senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course."<|quote|>So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.</|quote|>"Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Charming,"
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Tony Last
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at Milly from the doorway.<|quote|>"Charming,"</|quote|>he said, "perfectly charming. Shall
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about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.<|quote|>"Charming,"</|quote|>he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"
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learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.<|quote|>"Charming,"</|quote|>he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am
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he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.<|quote|>"Charming,"</|quote|>he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly
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done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.<|quote|>"Charming,"</|quote|>he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.
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not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.<|quote|>"Charming,"</|quote|>he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot.
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is all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.<|quote|>"Charming,"</|quote|>he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony
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up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway.<|quote|>"Charming,"</|quote|>he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said,
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No speaker
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Milly from the doorway. "Charming,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go
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his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms
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to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being
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knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still,
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and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for
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find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get
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all _wrong_," said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to
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asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been
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A Handful Of Dust
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"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"
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Tony Last
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the doorway. "Charming," he said,<|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"</|quote|>Their rooms were on the
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He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said,<|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"</|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step,
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were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said,<|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"</|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are
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the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said,<|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"</|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the
|
bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said,<|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"</|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young
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ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said,<|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"</|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the
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said the senior detective. "You haven't no business to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said,<|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"</|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would
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his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said,<|quote|>"perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"</|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're
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A Handful Of Dust
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Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.
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No speaker
|
we go down to dinner?"<|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.</|quote|>"Cheer up," said Milly. "You
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he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"<|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.</|quote|>"Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll
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the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"<|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.</|quote|>"Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors,
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manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"<|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.</|quote|>"Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else
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red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"<|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.</|quote|>"Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby,
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unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"<|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.</|quote|>"Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to
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to recognize us at all. I don't know what they'd say at the office." "Best respects," said the junior detective. "This is Mr James, my colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"<|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.</|quote|>"Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted
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_you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?"<|quote|>Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.</|quote|>"Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Cheer up,"
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Milly
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into the bright hall below.<|quote|>"Cheer up,"</|quote|>said Milly. "You have a
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arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.<|quote|>"Cheer up,"</|quote|>said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you
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all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.<|quote|>"Cheer up,"</|quote|>said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes
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reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.<|quote|>"Cheer up,"</|quote|>said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would
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and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.<|quote|>"Cheer up,"</|quote|>said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do,
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them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.<|quote|>"Cheer up,"</|quote|>said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us
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colleague," said the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.<|quote|>"Cheer up,"</|quote|>said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see
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in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below.<|quote|>"Cheer up,"</|quote|>said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Milly.
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No speaker
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bright hall below. "Cheer up,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich.
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descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry,
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that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and
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decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been
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once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I
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spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh,
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the senior detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come
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bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up,"<|quote|>said Milly.</|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."
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Milly
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below. "Cheer up," said Milly.<|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."</|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a
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staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly.<|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."</|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking.
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about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly.<|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."</|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids,"
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of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly.<|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."</|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur
|
in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly.<|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."</|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join
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the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly.<|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."</|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy
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detective. "My name is Blenkinsop. James is new to this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly.<|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."</|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over
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interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly.<|quote|>"You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."</|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Sorry, am I being a bore?"
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Tony Last
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sandwich. That'll make you talk."<|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?"</|quote|>"I was only joking. You
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Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."<|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?"</|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't
|
doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."<|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?"</|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice
|
or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."<|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?"</|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the
|
active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."<|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?"</|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"
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job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."<|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?"</|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented
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this kind of work." "So am I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."<|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?"</|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes,
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little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk."<|quote|>"Sorry, am I being a bore?"</|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"
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Milly
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am I being a bore?"<|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"</|quote|>In spite of the savage
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That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?"<|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"</|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full
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Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?"<|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"</|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."
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inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?"<|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"</|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em
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of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?"<|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"</|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"
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been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?"<|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"</|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had
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I," said Tony. "A pity we've such a nasty week-end for the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?"<|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"</|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out.
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of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?"<|quote|>"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"</|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the
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A Handful Of Dust
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In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.
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No speaker
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a serious boy, aren't you?"<|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.</|quote|>"Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still,
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was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"<|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.</|quote|>"Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a
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first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"<|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.</|quote|>"Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large
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circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"<|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.</|quote|>"Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that
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before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"<|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.</|quote|>"Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm
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his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"<|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.</|quote|>"Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you
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the job," said Blenkinsop, "very damp and blowy. Gets me in the joints." "Tell me," said Tony. "Is it usual to bring children on an expedition of this kind?" "It is _not_." "I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"<|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.</|quote|>"Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly
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high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?"<|quote|>In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.</|quote|>"Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"Yids,"
|
Milly
|
from the icy cold outside.<|quote|>"Yids,"</|quote|>explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's
|
moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.<|quote|>"Yids,"</|quote|>explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change
|
talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.<|quote|>"Yids,"</|quote|>explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur
|
the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.<|quote|>"Yids,"</|quote|>explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished
|
so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.<|quote|>"Yids,"</|quote|>explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you
|
depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.<|quote|>"Yids,"</|quote|>explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think
|
"I thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.<|quote|>"Yids,"</|quote|>explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to
|
dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside.<|quote|>"Yids,"</|quote|>explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
explained Milly superfluously.
|
No speaker
|
the icy cold outside. "Yids,"<|quote|>explained Milly superfluously.</|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get
|
and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids,"<|quote|>explained Milly superfluously.</|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club
|
"Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids,"<|quote|>explained Milly superfluously.</|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a
|
doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids,"<|quote|>explained Milly superfluously.</|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh,
|
that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids,"<|quote|>explained Milly superfluously.</|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said.
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induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids,"<|quote|>explained Milly superfluously.</|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be
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thought it couldn't be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids,"<|quote|>explained Milly superfluously.</|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one
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reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids,"<|quote|>explained Milly superfluously.</|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."
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Milly
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outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously.<|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."</|quote|>One of the new arrivals
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rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously.<|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."</|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's.
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being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously.<|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."</|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em
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said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously.<|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."</|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This
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at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously.<|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."</|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of
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persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously.<|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."</|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the
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be." "Since you ask me, Mr Last, I regard it as most irregular and injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously.<|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."</|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who
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and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously.<|quote|>"Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."</|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in
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A Handful Of Dust
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One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.
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No speaker
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club once in a while."<|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.</|quote|>"Take "em up and get
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get a change from the club once in a while."<|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.</|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about
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In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."<|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.</|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each
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first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."<|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.</|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold
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for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."<|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.</|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going
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"Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."<|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.</|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He
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injudicious. It looks wrong, and cases of this kind depend very much on making the right impression. Of course as far as James and me are concerned, the matter is O.K. There won't be a word about it in our evidence. But you can't trust the servants. You might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."<|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.</|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know
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and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while."<|quote|>One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.</|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"
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Dan
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and black and white shoes.<|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"</|quote|>he said. He was a
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the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.<|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"</|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His
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a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.<|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"</|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,
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aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.<|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"</|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and
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no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.<|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"</|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a
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Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.<|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"</|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for
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might very likely happen to strike one who was new to the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.<|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"</|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the
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duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes.<|quote|>"Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"</|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.
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No speaker
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unpacked and quick about it,"<|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.</|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake," she
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"em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"<|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.</|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young
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Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"<|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.</|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or
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full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"<|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.</|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he
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thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"<|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.</|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot.
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change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"<|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.</|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind,
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the courts, who'd blurt it out, and then where would we be. I don't like it, Mr Last, and that's the truth." "You can't feel more strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"<|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.</|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same.
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winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it,"<|quote|>he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.</|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh, for Christ's sake,"
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Milly
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showcases that embellished the hall.<|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake,"</|quote|>she said. Milly and the
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resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.<|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake,"</|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.
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a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.<|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake,"</|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"
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superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.<|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake,"</|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks
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he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.<|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake,"</|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts
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and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.<|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake,"</|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with
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strongly about it than I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.<|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake,"</|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her
|
duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall.<|quote|>"Oh, for Christ's sake,"</|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.
|
No speaker
|
hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake,"<|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.</|quote|>"This is Dan," she said.
|
the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake,"<|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.</|quote|>"This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,
|
coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake,"<|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.</|quote|>"This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like
|
to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake,"<|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.</|quote|>"This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign
|
Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake,"<|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.</|quote|>"This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was
|
brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake,"<|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.</|quote|>"This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner,
|
I do." "Fond of kids myself," said James, who was new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake,"<|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.</|quote|>"This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance
|
change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake,"<|quote|>she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.</|quote|>"This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"This is Dan,"
|
Milly
|
young man greeted each other.<|quote|>"This is Dan,"</|quote|>she said. "Well, well, well,"
|
she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.<|quote|>"This is Dan,"</|quote|>she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do
|
"em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.<|quote|>"This is Dan,"</|quote|>she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby.
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while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.<|quote|>"This is Dan,"</|quote|>she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good
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the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.<|quote|>"This is Dan,"</|quote|>she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have
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on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.<|quote|>"This is Dan,"</|quote|>she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was
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new to this kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.<|quote|>"This is Dan,"</|quote|>she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who
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in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other.<|quote|>"This is Dan,"</|quote|>she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the
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A Handful Of Dust
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she said.
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No speaker
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each other. "This is Dan,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Well, well, well," said Dan,
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and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get
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get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had
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the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't
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Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad
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a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for
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kind of work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full
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seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Well, well, well,"
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Dan
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"This is Dan," she said.<|quote|>"Well, well, well,"</|quote|>said Dan, "what next?" "Do
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young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said.<|quote|>"Well, well, well,"</|quote|>said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said
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unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said.<|quote|>"Well, well, well,"</|quote|>said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his
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arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said.<|quote|>"Well, well, well,"</|quote|>said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony.
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step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said.<|quote|>"Well, well, well,"</|quote|>said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once
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of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said.<|quote|>"Well, well, well,"</|quote|>said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as
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work. "How about one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said.<|quote|>"Well, well, well,"</|quote|>said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right
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on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said.<|quote|>"Well, well, well,"</|quote|>said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar,
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
said Dan,
|
No speaker
|
she said. "Well, well, well,"<|quote|>said Dan,</|quote|>"what next?" "Do I get
|
each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well,"<|quote|>said Dan,</|quote|>"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl.
|
about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well,"<|quote|>said Dan,</|quote|>"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and
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friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well,"<|quote|>said Dan,</|quote|>"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"
|
hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well,"<|quote|>said Dan,</|quote|>"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in
|
the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well,"<|quote|>said Dan,</|quote|>"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was
|
one with us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well,"<|quote|>said Dan,</|quote|>"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and
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decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well,"<|quote|>said Dan,</|quote|>"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"what next?"
|
Dan
|
"Well, well, well," said Dan,<|quote|>"what next?"</|quote|>"Do I get a drink?"
|
"This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,<|quote|>"what next?"</|quote|>"Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you
|
he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,<|quote|>"what next?"</|quote|>"Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a
|
Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,<|quote|>"what next?"</|quote|>"Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.
|
his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,<|quote|>"what next?"</|quote|>"Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end
|
sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,<|quote|>"what next?"</|quote|>"Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his
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us?" "Tell me," said Tony, when they had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,<|quote|>"what next?"</|quote|>"Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it.
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add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan,<|quote|>"what next?"</|quote|>"Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff.
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Dan's girl.
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No speaker
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"Do I get a drink?"<|quote|>said Dan's girl.</|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I
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well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?"<|quote|>said Dan's girl.</|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself.
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young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?"<|quote|>said Dan's girl.</|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk
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his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?"<|quote|>said Dan's girl.</|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained.
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the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?"<|quote|>said Dan's girl.</|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem
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the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?"<|quote|>said Dan's girl.</|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the
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had been at their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?"<|quote|>said Dan's girl.</|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke
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bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?"<|quote|>said Dan's girl.</|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"
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Dan
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a drink?" said Dan's girl.<|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"</|quote|>They went together into the
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"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl.<|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"</|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like
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companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl.<|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"</|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks
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else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl.<|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"</|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they
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below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl.<|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"</|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented
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domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl.<|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"</|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join
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their table some little time. "You must have observed numerous couples in your time, qualifying for a divorce; tell me, how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl.<|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"</|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a
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face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl.<|quote|>"Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"</|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done
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A Handful Of Dust
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They went together into the glittering lounge.
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No speaker
|
or are we _de trop_?"<|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge.</|quote|>"I'm cold like hell," said
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Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"<|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge.</|quote|>"I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off
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she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"<|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge.</|quote|>"I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think
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coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"<|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge.</|quote|>"I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they
|
"I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"<|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge.</|quote|>"I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have
|
of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"<|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge.</|quote|>"I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the
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how do they get through their day?" "It's easier in the summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"<|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge.</|quote|>"I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the
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of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?"<|quote|>They went together into the glittering lounge.</|quote|>"I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for
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A Handful Of Dust
|
said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.
|
No speaker
|
lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.</|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"
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went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.</|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks
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is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.</|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some
|
up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.</|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and
|
In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.</|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's
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before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.</|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to
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summer," said Blenkinsop, "the young ladies usually bathe and the gentlemen read the papers on the esplanade; some goes for motor drives and some just hangs around the bar. They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.</|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the
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morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.</|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the
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A Handful Of Dust
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"We'll soon warm you up,"
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Dan
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might have chosen for pyjamas.<|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"</|quote|>he said. "This place stinks
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shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.<|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"</|quote|>he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I
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Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.<|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"</|quote|>he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby
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the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.<|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"</|quote|>he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a
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icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.<|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"</|quote|>he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they
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nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.<|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"</|quote|>he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light;
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They're mostly glad when Monday comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.<|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"</|quote|>he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get
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once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas.<|quote|>"We'll soon warm you up,"</|quote|>he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said.
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No speaker
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"We'll soon warm you up,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"This place stinks of Yids,"
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might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think
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or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to
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hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We
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Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be
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he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some
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comes." * * * * * Milly and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where
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the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
said Baby.
|
No speaker
|
"This place stinks of Yids,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"I always think that's the
|
warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel,
|
together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they
|
Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one
|
a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if
|
passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So
|
and her child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a
|
dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"
|
Tony Last
|
stinks of Yids," said Baby.<|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"</|quote|>said Tony. "Like hell," said
|
up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby.<|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"</|quote|>said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby,
|
the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby.<|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"</|quote|>said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend
|
the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby.<|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"</|quote|>said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with
|
from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby.<|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"</|quote|>said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure
|
a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby.<|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"</|quote|>said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best
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child were in the sitting-room when Tony came up. "I've ordered an ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby.<|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"</|quote|>said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at
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no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby.<|quote|>"I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"</|quote|>said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Tony.
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No speaker
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a good hotel, don't you?"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"Like hell," said Baby. "You
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think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"
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off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's,
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well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once
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was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be
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had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything.
|
ice," said Milly. "Quite right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back.
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jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner,
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Baby.
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No speaker
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you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's
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of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't
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revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of
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"what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end
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Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."
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world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party
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right." "I want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion
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before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell,"<|quote|>said Baby.</|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"
|
Dan
|
Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.<|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"</|quote|>Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be,
|
good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.<|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"</|quote|>Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They
|
suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.<|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"</|quote|>Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly
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"Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.<|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"</|quote|>Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl
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was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.<|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"</|quote|>Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was
|
bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.<|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"</|quote|>Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all
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want late dinner. I want late dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.<|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"</|quote|>Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his
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seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby.<|quote|>"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"</|quote|>Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's
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A Handful Of Dust
|
Dan explained.
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No speaker
|
mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"<|quote|>Dan explained.</|quote|>"Who wouldn't be, in your
|
"Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"<|quote|>Dan explained.</|quote|>"Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some
|
a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"<|quote|>Dan explained.</|quote|>"Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in
|
Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"<|quote|>Dan explained.</|quote|>"Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem
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luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"<|quote|>Dan explained.</|quote|>"Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette
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though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"<|quote|>Dan explained.</|quote|>"Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or
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dinner." "No, dear, not late dinner. You have an ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"<|quote|>Dan explained.</|quote|>"Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and
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and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold,"<|quote|>Dan explained.</|quote|>"Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll
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A Handful Of Dust
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They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.
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No speaker
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be, in your lousy car?"<|quote|>They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.</|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"
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cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?"<|quote|>They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.</|quote|>"He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to
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chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?"<|quote|>They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.</|quote|>"He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like
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get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?"<|quote|>They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.</|quote|>"He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her,
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figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?"<|quote|>They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.</|quote|>"He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating
|
the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?"<|quote|>They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.</|quote|>"He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They
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ice up here." Tony returned to the bar. "Mr James," he said. "Did I understand you to say you were fond of children." "Yes, in their right place." "You wouldn't, I suppose, consider dining to-night with the little girl who has accompanied me? I should take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?"<|quote|>They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.</|quote|>"He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * *
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for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?"<|quote|>They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.</|quote|>"He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's
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A Handful Of Dust
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"He's a very nice boy,"
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Milly
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Milly went in to dinner.<|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"</|quote|>she said, "and comes to
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his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.<|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"</|quote|>she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We
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be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.<|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"</|quote|>she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was
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a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.<|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"</|quote|>she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look
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in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.<|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"</|quote|>she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie.
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chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.<|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"</|quote|>she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the
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take it as a great kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.<|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"</|quote|>she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened
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ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner.<|quote|>"He's a very nice boy,"</|quote|>she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then
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A Handful Of Dust
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she said,
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No speaker
|
"He's a very nice boy,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"and comes to the club
|
Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all
|
They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony
|
chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that
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at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the
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ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff.
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kindness." "Oh no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie.
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companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back
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A Handful Of Dust
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"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."
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Milly
|
very nice boy," she said,<|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."</|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to
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in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said,<|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."</|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she
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some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said,<|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."</|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder
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pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said,<|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."</|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that
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of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said,<|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."</|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance
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smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said,<|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."</|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're
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no, sir, hardly that." "You would not find me ungrateful." "Well, sir, I don't want to appear unobliging, but it's not part of my duties." He seemed to be wavering but Blenkinsop interposed. "Quite out of the question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said,<|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."</|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and
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wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said,<|quote|>"and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."</|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked
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A Handful Of Dust
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"His girl didn't seem to like us much."
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Tony Last
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end he couldn't get away."<|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much."</|quote|>"Oh, she was cold." Tony
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him once but in the end he couldn't get away."<|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much."</|quote|>"Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy
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and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."<|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much."</|quote|>"Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said
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she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."<|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much."</|quote|>"Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to
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drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."<|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much."</|quote|>"Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the
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into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."<|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much."</|quote|>"Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you.
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question, sir." When Tony left them Blenkinsop spoke from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."<|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much."</|quote|>"Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with
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that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away."<|quote|>"His girl didn't seem to like us much."</|quote|>"Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh, she was cold."
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Milly
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seem to like us much."<|quote|>"Oh, she was cold."</|quote|>Tony did not find conversation
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get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much."<|quote|>"Oh, she was cold."</|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first
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very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much."<|quote|>"Oh, she was cold."</|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at
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your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much."<|quote|>"Oh, she was cold."</|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women,
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I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much."<|quote|>"Oh, she was cold."</|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he
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Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much."<|quote|>"Oh, she was cold."</|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there
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from the depth of his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much."<|quote|>"Oh, she was cold."</|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's
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inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much."<|quote|>"Oh, she was cold."</|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went
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A Handful Of Dust
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Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.
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No speaker
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much." "Oh, she was cold."<|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.</|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in
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didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold."<|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.</|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you
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said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold."<|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.</|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd
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had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold."<|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.</|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when
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it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold."<|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.</|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always
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tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold."<|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.</|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested
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his experience; it was the first job that he and James had been on together, and he felt under some obligation to put his junior wise. "Our trouble is always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold."<|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.</|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go
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ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold."<|quote|>Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.</|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That's a pretty girl in the corner."
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Tony Last
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dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.<|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner."</|quote|>"I wonder you don't go
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done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.<|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner."</|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said
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once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.<|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner."</|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony
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Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.<|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner."</|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It
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his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.<|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner."</|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh,
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the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.<|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner."</|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going
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always the same--to make the clients realize that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.<|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner."</|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony
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companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's.<|quote|>"That's a pretty girl in the corner."</|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"
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Milly
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pretty girl in the corner."<|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"</|quote|>said Milly testily. "Look at
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Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner."<|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"</|quote|>said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you
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get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner."<|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"</|quote|>said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world
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there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner."<|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"</|quote|>said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in
|
smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner."<|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"</|quote|>said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made
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More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner."<|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"</|quote|>said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable
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that divorce is a serious matter." Eventually extravagant promises for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner."<|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"</|quote|>said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again
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at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner."<|quote|>"I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"</|quote|>said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Milly testily.
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No speaker
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go and join her, dear,"<|quote|>said Milly testily.</|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds.
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corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"<|quote|>said Milly testily.</|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can
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much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"<|quote|>said Milly testily.</|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest
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a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"<|quote|>said Milly testily.</|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of
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pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"<|quote|>said Milly testily.</|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth
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moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"<|quote|>said Milly testily.</|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he
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for the morrow, two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"<|quote|>said Milly testily.</|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All
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supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear,"<|quote|>said Milly testily.</|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"
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Tony Last
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her, dear," said Milly testily.<|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"</|quote|>"Why don't you ask her,
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you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily.<|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"</|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's
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was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily.<|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"</|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne.
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boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily.<|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"</|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was
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have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily.<|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"</|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason,
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cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily.<|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"</|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage
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two or three ices, and the slight depression induced by them persuaded Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily.<|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"</|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother
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spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily.<|quote|>"Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"</|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"
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Milly
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think they can be real?"<|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"</|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark
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that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"<|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"</|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd
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he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"<|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"</|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two
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all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"<|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"</|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly
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place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"<|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"</|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony
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it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"<|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"</|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a
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Winnie to go to bed. "How are we going to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"<|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"</|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into
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aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?"<|quote|>"Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"</|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."
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Tony Last
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her, if you're so interested?"<|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."</|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted
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real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"<|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."</|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony
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done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"<|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."</|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say
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ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"<|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."</|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved
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that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"<|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."</|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had
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once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"<|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."</|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid,
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to sleep?" asked Milly. "Oh, just as you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"<|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."</|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling
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at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?"<|quote|>"That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."</|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?"
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."
|
Milly
|
interesting type--the dark woman dancing."<|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."</|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it
|
you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."<|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."</|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's
|
Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."<|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."</|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came
|
abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."<|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."</|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his
|
don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."<|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."</|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party
|
new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."<|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."</|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've
|
you like." "Just as _you_ like." "Well, perhaps Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."<|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."</|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A
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a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing."<|quote|>"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."</|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.
|
No speaker
|
be delighted to hear it."<|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.</|quote|>"Look here," he said, "if
|
woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."<|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.</|quote|>"Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything
|
the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."<|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.</|quote|>"Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue
|
he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."<|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.</|quote|>"Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend
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"You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."<|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.</|quote|>"Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come
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was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."<|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.</|quote|>"Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his
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Winnie would be happier with you... she'll have to go into the other room to-morrow morning when they bring in breakfast, of course." So she was tucked up in a corner of the double bed and to Tony's surprise was asleep before they went down to dinner. A change of clothes brought to both Tony and Milly a change of temper. She, in her best evening frock, backless and vermilion, her face newly done and her bleached curls brushed out, her feet in high red shoes, some bracelets on her wrist, a dab of scent behind the large sham pearls in her ears, shook off the cares of domesticity and was once more in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."<|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.</|quote|>"Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must
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her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it."<|quote|>Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.</|quote|>"Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Look here,"
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Dan
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other side of the dining-room.<|quote|>"Look here,"</|quote|>he said, "if you two
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appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.<|quote|>"Look here,"</|quote|>he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why
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of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.<|quote|>"Look here,"</|quote|>he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that
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interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.<|quote|>"Look here,"</|quote|>he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most
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she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.<|quote|>"Look here,"</|quote|>he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when
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have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.<|quote|>"Look here,"</|quote|>he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to
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in uniform, reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.<|quote|>"Look here,"</|quote|>he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your
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"We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room.<|quote|>"Look here,"</|quote|>he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said,
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No speaker
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of the dining-room. "Look here,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"if you two aren't doing
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Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you
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All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed
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women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When
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cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't
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get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again
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reporting for duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I
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mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a
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A Handful Of Dust
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"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."
|
Dan
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dining-room. "Look here," he said,<|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."</|quote|>"Oh, do let's," said Milly.
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the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said,<|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."</|quote|>"Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made
|
time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said,<|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."</|quote|>"Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of
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than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said,<|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."</|quote|>"Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label,
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did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said,<|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."</|quote|>"Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's
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myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said,<|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."</|quote|>"Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him
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duty, a legionary ordered for active service after the enervating restraints of a winter in barracks; and Tony, filling his cigar case before the mirror, and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said,<|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."</|quote|>"Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about
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near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said,<|quote|>"if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."</|quote|>"Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh, do let's,"
|
Milly
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one the best of everything."<|quote|>"Oh, do let's,"</|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes
|
like it. He always gives one the best of everything."<|quote|>"Oh, do let's,"</|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth
|
by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."<|quote|>"Oh, do let's,"</|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty
|
It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."<|quote|>"Oh, do let's,"</|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt
|
corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."<|quote|>"Oh, do let's,"</|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again."
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of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."<|quote|>"Oh, do let's,"</|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed
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jacket, reminded himself that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."<|quote|>"Oh, do let's,"</|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater.
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went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything."<|quote|>"Oh, do let's,"</|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.
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No speaker
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of everything." "Oh, do let's,"<|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.</|quote|>"This stuff's all right," he
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always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's,"<|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.</|quote|>"This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it
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of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's,"<|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.</|quote|>"This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's
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as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's,"<|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.</|quote|>"This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that
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you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's,"<|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.</|quote|>"This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was
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plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's,"<|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.</|quote|>"This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over
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that phantasmagoric, and even gruesome as the situation might seem to him, he was nevertheless a host, so that he knocked at the communicating door and passed with a calm manner into his guest's room; for a month now he had lived in a world suddenly bereft of order; it was as though the whole reasonable and decent constitution of things, the sum of all he had experienced or learned to expect, were an inconspicuous, inconsiderable object mislaid somewhere on the dressing table; no outrageous circumstance in which he found himself, no new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's,"<|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.</|quote|>"This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in
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"Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's,"<|quote|>said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses.</|quote|>"This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said,
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said, showing the label,
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No speaker
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glasses. "This stuff's all right,"<|quote|>he said, showing the label,</|quote|>"it won't hurt you. It's
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among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right,"<|quote|>he said, showing the label,</|quote|>"it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had
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There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right,"<|quote|>he said, showing the label,</|quote|>"it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would
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one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right,"<|quote|>he said, showing the label,</|quote|>"it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's
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bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right,"<|quote|>he said, showing the label,</|quote|>"it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she
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at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right,"<|quote|>he said, showing the label,</|quote|>"it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three
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new, mad thing brought to his notice, could add a jot to the all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right,"<|quote|>he said, showing the label,</|quote|>"it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here
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would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right,"<|quote|>he said, showing the label,</|quote|>"it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of
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A Handful Of Dust
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They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.
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No speaker
|
you. It's the right stuff."<|quote|>They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.</|quote|>"I'm so glad Dan brought
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the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff."<|quote|>They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.</|quote|>"I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope
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like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff."<|quote|>They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.</|quote|>"I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if
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were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff."<|quote|>They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.</|quote|>"I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly."
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accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff."<|quote|>They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.</|quote|>"I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full
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dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff."<|quote|>They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.</|quote|>"I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No,
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all-encompassing chaos that shrieked about his ears. He smiled at Milly from the doorway. "Charming," he said, "perfectly charming. Shall we go down to dinner?" Their rooms were on the first floor. Step by step, with her hand on his arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff."<|quote|>They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.</|quote|>"I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your
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as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff."<|quote|>They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.</|quote|>"I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to
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A Handful Of Dust
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he would say.
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No speaker
|
so glad Dan brought you,"<|quote|>he would say.</|quote|>"Hope you're getting all you
|
hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you,"<|quote|>he would say.</|quote|>"Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you.
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the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you,"<|quote|>he would say.</|quote|>"Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going
|
party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you,"<|quote|>he would say.</|quote|>"Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about
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his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you,"<|quote|>he would say.</|quote|>"Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was
|
end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you,"<|quote|>he would say.</|quote|>"Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the
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arm, they descended the staircase into the bright hall below. "Cheer up," said Milly. "You have a tongue sandwich. That'll make you talk." "Sorry, am I being a bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you,"<|quote|>he would say.</|quote|>"Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr
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They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you,"<|quote|>he would say.</|quote|>"Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes, I like them very much."
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Tony Last
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the place. Interested in roses?"<|quote|>"Yes, I like them very much."</|quote|>"Come when the roses are
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a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?"<|quote|>"Yes, I like them very much."</|quote|>"Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if
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out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?"<|quote|>"Yes, I like them very much."</|quote|>"Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting
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off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?"<|quote|>"Yes, I like them very much."</|quote|>"Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very
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join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?"<|quote|>"Yes, I like them very much."</|quote|>"Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere
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commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?"<|quote|>"Yes, I like them very much."</|quote|>"Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on
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bore?" "I was only joking. You are a serious boy, aren't you?" In spite of the savage weather the hotel seemed full of week-end visitors. More were arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?"<|quote|>"Yes, I like them very much."</|quote|>"Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr
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wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?"<|quote|>"Yes, I like them very much."</|quote|>"Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or
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A Handful Of Dust
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Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,
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No speaker
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radio, it's going wonky again."<|quote|>Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,</|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll
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interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again."<|quote|>Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,</|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've
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getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again."<|quote|>Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,</|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then
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you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again."<|quote|>Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,</|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby,
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said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again."<|quote|>Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,</|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony
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you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again."<|quote|>Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,</|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters
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arriving through the swing doors, their eyes moist and their cheeks rigid from the icy cold outside. "Yids," explained Milly superfluously. "Still, it's nice to get a change from the club once in a while." One of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again."<|quote|>Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,</|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and
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to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again."<|quote|>Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,</|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Nice kid, Milly."
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Dan
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sofa with Dan, who said,<|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly."</|quote|>"Yes." "I'll tell you a
|
found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,<|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly."</|quote|>"Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her.
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like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,<|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly."</|quote|>"Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking
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on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,<|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly."</|quote|>"Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full
|
and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,<|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly."</|quote|>"Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat
|
woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,<|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly."</|quote|>"Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up
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of the new arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,<|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly."</|quote|>"Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over.
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was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said,<|quote|>"Nice kid, Milly."</|quote|>"Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes."
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Tony Last
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who said, "Nice kid, Milly."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing
|
on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She
|
you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her
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"I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of
|
best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at
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sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the
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arrivals was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over. Do
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don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."
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Dan
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said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes."<|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."</|quote|>"Yes." "You wouldn't think she
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a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes."<|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."</|quote|>"Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight,
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interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes."<|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."</|quote|>"Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've
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so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes."<|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."</|quote|>"Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when
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of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes."<|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."</|quote|>"Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however,
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she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes."<|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."</|quote|>"Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray
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was a friend of Milly's. He was supervising the collection of his luggage. Anywhere else he would have been a noticeable figure, for he wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes."<|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."</|quote|>"Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over. Do get her to come out. I want to go on the pier." "Milly," said Tony firmly. "Milly." "Oh," she said. "What time is it?"
|
you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes."<|quote|>"I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."</|quote|>"Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes."
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Tony Last
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People like you and me."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had
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type from the other girls. People like you and me."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would
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brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always
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crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the
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was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she
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the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and
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wore a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over. Do get her to come out. I want to go on the pier." "Milly," said Tony firmly. "Milly." "Oh," she said. "What time is it?" "We've
|
he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"
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Dan
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like you and me." "Yes."<|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"</|quote|>"No, it's very surprising." "I
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from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes."<|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"</|quote|>"No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then
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over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes."<|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"</|quote|>"No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave
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and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes."<|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"</|quote|>"No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show
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not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes."<|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"</|quote|>"No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an
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one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes."<|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"</|quote|>"No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to
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a large fur coat and a beret; under the coat appeared tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes."<|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"</|quote|>"No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over. Do get her to come out. I want to go on the pier." "Milly," said Tony firmly. "Milly." "Oh," she said. "What time is it?" "We've got to have breakfast." "Don't want any breakfast. I think I'll
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clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes."<|quote|>"You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"</|quote|>"No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, it's very surprising."
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Tony Last
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daughter of eight, would you?"<|quote|>"No, it's very surprising."</|quote|>"I didn't know for ages.
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wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"<|quote|>"No, it's very surprising."</|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her
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found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"<|quote|>"No, it's very surprising."</|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this
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them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"<|quote|>"No, it's very surprising."</|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in
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throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"<|quote|>"No, it's very surprising."</|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony
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with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"<|quote|>"No, it's very surprising."</|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched
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tartan stockings and black and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"<|quote|>"No, it's very surprising."</|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over. Do get her to come out. I want to go on the pier." "Milly," said Tony firmly. "Milly." "Oh," she said. "What time is it?" "We've got to have breakfast." "Don't want any breakfast. I think I'll sleep a little." "You've
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Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?"<|quote|>"No, it's very surprising."</|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."
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Dan
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you?" "No, it's very surprising."<|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."</|quote|>He said this with a
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a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising."<|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."</|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who
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a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising."<|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."</|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of
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when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising."<|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."</|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it
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was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising."<|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."</|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think,"
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two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising."<|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."</|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers
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and white shoes. "Take "em up and get "em unpacked and quick about it," he said. He was a stout little young man. His companion, also in furs, was staring resentfully at one of the showcases that embellished the hall. "Oh, for Christ's sake," she said. Milly and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising."<|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."</|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over. Do get her to come out. I want to go on the pier." "Milly," said Tony firmly. "Milly." "Oh," she said. "What time is it?" "We've got to have breakfast." "Don't want any breakfast. I think I'll sleep a little." "You've had breakfast," said Winnie. "Come on," said Tony. "Plenty of time to sleep afterwards. This is what we came for." Milly sat up in bed. "O.K.," she said. "Winnie, darling, give mother her jacket off the chair." She was a conscientious girl, ready to go through with
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Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising."<|quote|>"I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."</|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said.
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A Handful Of Dust
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He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.
|
No speaker
|
trust her to behave anywhere."<|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.</|quote|>"I doubt if you'll find
|
just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."<|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.</|quote|>"I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses
|
it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."<|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.</|quote|>"I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you
|
himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."<|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.</|quote|>"I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly.
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Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."<|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.</|quote|>"I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said.
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what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."<|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.</|quote|>"I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you
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and the young man greeted each other. "This is Dan," she said. "Well, well, well," said Dan, "what next?" "Do I get a drink?" said Dan's girl. "Baby, you do, if I have to get it myself. Won't you two join us, or are we _de trop_?" They went together into the glittering lounge. "I'm cold like hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."<|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.</|quote|>"I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over. Do get her to come out. I want to go on the pier." "Milly," said Tony firmly. "Milly." "Oh," she said. "What time is it?" "We've got to have breakfast." "Don't want any breakfast. I think I'll sleep a little." "You've had breakfast," said Winnie. "Come on," said Tony. "Plenty of time to sleep afterwards. This is what we came for." Milly sat up in bed. "O.K.," she said. "Winnie, darling, give mother her jacket off the chair." She was a conscientious girl, ready to go through with her job, however unattractive it might seem. "But it's early." Tony went into his room and took off his shoes, collar and tie, coat and waistcoat, and put on a dressing-gown. "You are greedy," said Winnie, "eating two breakfasts." "When you're
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So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere."<|quote|>He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out.</|quote|>"I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England," he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome. "Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.
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No speaker
|
in the south of England,"<|quote|>he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.</|quote|>"Where were you?" she kept
|
better show of roses anywhere in the south of England,"<|quote|>he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.</|quote|>"Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all
|
towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England,"<|quote|>he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.</|quote|>"Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder
|
ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England,"<|quote|>he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.</|quote|>"Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep.
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out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England,"<|quote|>he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.</|quote|>"Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not
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friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England,"<|quote|>he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.</|quote|>"Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers
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hell," said Baby. Dan had taken off his greatcoat and revealed a suit of smooth, purplish plus-fours and a silk shirt of a pattern Tony might have chosen for pyjamas. "We'll soon warm you up," he said. "This place stinks of Yids," said Baby. "I always think that's the sign of a good hotel, don't you?" said Tony. "Like hell," said Baby. "You mustn't mind Baby, she's cold," Dan explained. "Who wouldn't be, in your lousy car?" They had some cocktails. Then Dan and Baby went to their room; they must doll up, they explained, as they were going to a party given by a friend of Dan's, at a place of his near there. Tony and Milly went in to dinner. "He's a very nice boy," she said, "and comes to the club a lot. We get all sorts there, but Dan's one of the decent ones. I was going to have gone abroad with him once but in the end he couldn't get away." "His girl didn't seem to like us much." "Oh, she was cold." Tony did not find conversation easy at dinner. At first he commented on their neighbours as he would have done if he had been dining with Brenda at Espinosa's. "That's a pretty girl in the corner." "I wonder you don't go and join her, dear," said Milly testily. "Look at that woman's diamonds. Do you think they can be real?" "Why don't you ask her, if you're so interested?" "That's an interesting type--the dark woman dancing." "I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it." Presently Tony realized that it was not etiquette in Milly's world to express interest in women, other than the one you were with. They drank champagne. So also, noticed Tony with displeasure, did the two detectives. He would have something to say about that when their bill for expenses came in. It was not as though they had been accommodating in the matter of Winnie. All the time, at the back of his mind, he was worrying with the problem of what they could possibly do after dinner, but it was solved for him, just as he was lighting his cigar, by the appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England,"<|quote|>he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.</|quote|>"Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you thinking of? You've got to get evidence from the hotel servants." "Well, I didn't like to wake Milly." "She's paid for it, isn't she? Come, come, Mr Last, this won't do at all. You'll never get your divorce if you don't give your mind to it more." "All right," said Tony. "I'll have breakfast again." "In bed, mind." "In bed." And he went wearily upstairs to his rooms. Winnie had drawn the curtains but her mother was still asleep. "She woke up once and then turned over. Do get her to come out. I want to go on the pier." "Milly," said Tony firmly. "Milly." "Oh," she said. "What time is it?" "We've got to have breakfast." "Don't want any breakfast. I think I'll sleep a little." "You've had breakfast," said Winnie. "Come on," said Tony. "Plenty of time to sleep afterwards. This is what we came for." Milly sat up in bed. "O.K.," she said. "Winnie, darling, give mother her jacket off the chair." She was a conscientious girl, ready to go through with her job, however unattractive it might seem. "But it's early." Tony went into his room and took off his shoes, collar and tie, coat and waistcoat, and put on a dressing-gown. "You are greedy," said Winnie, "eating two breakfasts." "When you're a little older you'll understand these things. It's the Law. Now I want you to stay in the sitting-room for a quarter of an hour very quietly. Promise? And afterwards you can do exactly what
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appearance of Dan from the other side of the dining-room. "Look here," he said, "if you two aren't doing anything special, why don't you join up with us and come to the party at my friend's place. You'll like it. He always gives one the best of everything." "Oh, do let's," said Milly. Dan's evening clothes were made of blue cloth that was supposed to appear black in artificial light; for some reason, however, they remained very blue. So Milly and Tony went to Dan's friend's place and had the best of everything. There was a party of twenty or thirty people, all more or less like Dan. Dan's friend was most hospitable. When he was not fiddling with the wireless, which gave trouble off and on throughout the evening, he was sauntering among his guests refilling their glasses. "This stuff's all right," he said, showing the label, "it won't hurt you. It's the right stuff." They had a lot of the right stuff. Quite often Dan's friend noticed that Tony seemed to be out of the party. Then he would come across and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm so glad Dan brought you," he would say. "Hope you're getting all you want. Delighted to see you. Come again when there isn't a crowd and see over the place. Interested in roses?" "Yes, I like them very much." "Come when the roses are out. You'd like that if you're interested in roses. Damn that radio, it's going wonky again." Tony wondered whether he was as amiable when people he did not know were brought over unexpectedly to Hetton. At one stage in the evening he found himself sitting on a sofa with Dan, who said, "Nice kid, Milly." "Yes." "I'll tell you a thing I've noticed about her. She attracts quite a different type from the other girls. People like you and me." "Yes." "You wouldn't think she had a daughter of eight, would you?" "No, it's very surprising." "I didn't know for ages. Then I was taking her to Dieppe for the week-end and she wanted to bring the child along too. Of course that put the kybosh on it, but I've always liked Milly just the same. You can trust her to behave anywhere." He said this with a sour glance towards Baby, who was full of the right stuff and showing it. It was after three before the party broke up. Dan's friend renewed his invitation to come again when the roses were out. "I doubt if you'll find a better show of roses anywhere in the south of England,"<|quote|>he said. Dan drove them back to the hotel. Baby sat beside him in front, disposed to be quarrelsome.</|quote|>"Where were you?" she kept asking. "Never saw you all the evening. Where did you get to? Where were you hiding? I call it a lousy way to take a girl out." Tony and Milly sat at the back. From habit and exhaustion she put her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. When they reached their rooms, however, she said, "Go quietly. We don't want to wake Winnie." For an hour or so Tony lay in the warm little bedroom, reviewing over and over again the incidents of the last three months; then he too fell asleep. * * * * * He was awakened by Winnie. "Mother's still asleep," she said. Tony looked at his watch. "So I should think," he said. It was a quarter-past seven. "Go back to bed." "No, I'm dressed. Let's go out." She went to the window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with glacial, morning light. "It's hardly raining at all," she said. "What do you want to do?" "I want to go on the pier." "It won't be open yet." "Well, I want to go down to the sea. Come on." Tony knew that he would not get to sleep again that morning. "All right. You go and wait while I dress." "I'll wait here. Mother snores so." Twenty minutes later they went downstairs into the hall where aproned waiters were piling up the furniture and brushing the carpets. A keen wind met them as they emerged from the swing door. The asphalt promenade was wet with spray and rain. Two or three female figures were scudding along, bowed to the wind, prayer-books clutched in their gloved hands. Four or five rugged old men were hobbling down to bathe, hissing like ostlers. "Oh, come on," said Winnie. They went down to the beach and stumbled painfully across the shingle to the margin of the sea. Winnie threw some stones. The bathers were in the water now; some of them had dogs who swam snorting beside them. "Why don't you bathe?" asked Winnie. "Far too cold." "But _they're_ bathing. I want to." "You must ask your mother." "I believe you're afraid. Can you swim?" "Yes." "Well, why don't you? Bet you can't." "All right. I can't." "Then why did you say you could. Fibber." They walked along the shingle. Winnie slithered about astride a backwater. "Now my knickers are wet," she said. "Better come back and change." "It feels horrible. Let's go and have breakfast." The hotel did not, as a rule, cater for guests who breakfasted downstairs at eight o'clock on Sunday morning. It took a long time before anything could be got ready. There were no ices, much to Winnie's annoyance. She ate grapefruit and kippers and scrambled eggs on toast, complaining fitfully about her wet clothing. After breakfast Tony sent her upstairs to change and himself smoked a pipe in the lounge and glanced over the Sunday papers. Here at nine o'clock he was interrupted by the arrival of Blenkinsop. "We missed you last night," he said. "We went to a party." "You shouldn't have done that--not strictly, but I daresay no harm will come of it. Have you had your breakfast?" "Yes, in the dining-room with Winnie." "But, Mr Last, what are you
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A Handful Of Dust
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