A Sword For the Baron Read Free Page A

reached to ceiling height, and the ceiling was beautifully ornate.
    He went to the door, and opened it. Larraby and the girl were halfway along the passage which led to the front door. On either side of the deep but narrow shop there were antiques, some almost priceless, all of them of great value. A light glowed, here and there, upon a painting by an old master. Other lights glowed on pieces of jewellery in small showcases. The atmosphere was exactly right for old objects – and the girl looked incongruous against it.
    She could not have been more modern, more alert, more alive, more young.
    The first thing Mannering noticed was her eyes; eyes the colour of gentians, so like Lord Gentian’s that it was startling. Her fair hair was swept back from a broad forehead in a way that seemed careless but was undoubtedly carefully studied. She had on comparatively little make-up except at her lips, where scarlet seemed to slash. Her lips were parted as she came forward. She wore a closely knitted two-piece suit of a powder blue. Something put stars into her eyes, even in this shadowy place. Were they too bright?
    â€œMr Mannering, how good of you to see me!”
    â€œI’m glad to,” Mannering murmured.
    She didn’t offer to shake hands.
    â€œMy name is Gentian – Sara Gentian.” She seemed to expect him to show surprise. “My uncle came in to see you a little while ago, I believe.”
    â€œHe did,” said Mannering.
    Larraby stood just behind the girl, obviously thinking it better to allow her to make the running; and she seemed quite capable of it. Warning stirred in Mannering’s mind. This girl was as full of vitality as she was of charm, and it could be a seductive vitality. She was accustomed to getting what she wanted and she used her looks to help her. She was slim, some would think almost too thin, and she made no attempt to exaggerate her figure. But he had already seen how well she moved, and how expressive her hands were.
    She stood quite close to him.
    â€œCan you spare me a little time?”
    â€œOf course.” Mannering stood aside for her to go into the office.
    Although he was behind her, he could see from the way she turned her head that she was looking for something; no doubt for the sword. Her gaze did not appear to linger on the raincoat, so perhaps that had fooled her. He pulled back the chair in which Gentian had sat, and she flashed a smile as she sat down.
    Larraby closed the door.
    â€œMr Mannering,” Sara said, leaning forward with her hands resting lightly on the desk, “did my uncle leave something with you?”
    Mannering answered mildly: “Would you ask a lawyer or a doctor to tell you what he had said to a client or a patient?”
    â€œNo. But surely this is different.”
    â€œI don’t think it’s at all different,” Mannering replied. “Unless I had any reason to think that you were involved in something illegal, or—” he paused, to judge the expression in her eyes, and had no doubt that they became shadowed when he used the word “illegal” but it was not enough to make him sure that the word had any great significance – “or unless I thought it would have some harmful effect, I wouldn’t tell your uncle anything about this conversation.”
    â€œIt wouldn’t matter if you did.” She leaned still further towards him. Her hands moved, too, and her fingers rested lightly on the back of Mannering’s hand. “Please tell me.”
    â€œConvince me that I ought to,” Mannering said.
    She drew back. Perhaps she realised that the storming tactics had failed, that new ones were necessary. She paused for some time, her eyes narrowing; she was summing him up.
    Suddenly she laughed. “I suppose it isn’t very important. He brought you the sword, didn’t he?”
    â€œThe sword?”
    â€œThe Mogul Sword.”
    â€œDid he?”
    â€œAs I