Black August Read Free

else.’
    â€˜Sorry,’ he smiled, ‘one gets so into the habit of speculating as to what sort of trouble is coming to us next! Do you live in Suffolk?’
    â€˜No, London—got to because of my job.’
    â€˜Whereabouts?’
    â€˜Gloucester Road.’
    â€˜That’s South Kensington, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Yes, it’s very handy for the tubes and buses.’
    â€˜Have you got a flat there?’
    â€˜A flat!’ Ann’s mouth twitched with amusement. ‘Gracious, no! I couldn’t afford it. Just a room, that’s all.’
    â€˜In a hotel?’
    â€˜No, I loathe those beastly boarding-houses. This is over a shop. There are five of us; a married couple, a journalist, another girl and myself. It is run by an ex-service man whose wife left him the house. We all share a sitting-room, and there’s a communal kitchen on the top floor. It is a funny spot, but it is cheap and there are no restrictions, so it suits me. Where do you live?’
    â€˜With my father, in the West End.’
    â€˜And what do you do?’
    â€˜Well, I’m a Government servant of sorts, at least I hope to be in a few weeks’ time—if I get the job I’m after.’
    â€˜I wonder how you’ll like being cooped up in an office all day? You don’t look that sort of man.’
    â€˜Fortunately I shan’t have to be—a good part of my work will be in Suffolk. Do you come down to Orford often?’
    She shook her dark curly head. ‘No, only for holidays. You see, I like to dress as nicely as I can, and even that’s not easy on my screw—so it’s Orford with Uncle Timothy or nothing!’
    Kenyon smiled. He liked the candid way in which she told him about herself. ‘What is Uncle Timothy like?’ he inquired.
    â€˜A parson—and pompous!’ the golden eyes twinkled. ‘He’s not a bad old thing, really, but terribly wrapped up in the local gentry.’
    â€˜Do you see a lot of them?’
    â€˜No, and I don’t want to!’
    â€˜Why the hate—they’re probably quite a nice crowd.’
    â€˜Oh, I’ve nothing against them, but I find my own friends more intelligent and more amusing—besides the women try to patronise me, which I loathe.’
    He laughed suddenly. ‘The truth is you’re an inverted snob!’
    â€˜Perhaps,’ she agreed, with a quick lowering of her eyelids, the thick dark lashes spreading like fans on her cheeks; ‘but they seem such a stupid, vapid lot—yet because of their position they still run everything; so as I’m inclined to be intolerant, it is wisest that I should keep away from their jamborees.’
    Kenyon nodded. ‘If you really are such a firebrand you’re probably right, but you mustn’t blame poor old Uncle Timothy if he fusses over them a bit. After all, the landowners have meant bread-and-butter to the local parson in England for generations, so it is only part of his job.’
    â€˜Church and State hang together, eh?’
    â€˜Now that’s quite enough of that,’ he said promptly, ‘or we’ll be getting on to religion, and that’s a thousand times worse than politics.’
    â€˜Are you—er—religious?’ she asked with sudden seriousness.
    â€˜No, not noticeably so—but I respect other people who are—whatever their creed.’
    â€˜So do I,’ her big eyes shone with merriment, ‘if they leave me alone. As I earn my own living I consider that I’m entitled to my Sunday mornings in bed!’
    â€˜How does that go in Gloucester Road?’
    â€˜Perfectly—as we all have to make our own beds!—that, to my mind, is one of the beauties of the place.’
    â€˜What—making your own bed?’
    â€˜Idiot!—of course not, but being able to stop in it without any fuss and nonsense.’
    â€˜Yes,’ he said thoughtfully,