Black August Read Free Page A

‘you’re right there—rich people miss a lot of fun, they have to get up because of the servants!’
    The train rumbled to a halt in the little wayside station of Elmswell. The carriage door was flung open, and an unusual figure stumbled in. Kenyon drew up his long legs with a barely concealed frown, but he caught the suggestion of a wink from Ann and looked again at the new-comer.
    He was very short, very bony, his skinny legs protruded comically from a pair of khaki shorts and ended in a pair of enormous, untanned leather boots. He carried the usual hiker’s pack andstaff, and a small, well-thumbed book which he proceeded at once to read. The close print and limp black leather binding of the book suggested some religious manual. Its owner was of uncertain age, his face pink and hairless, his head completely bald except for a short fringe of ginger curls above his ears.
    As the train moved on again Kenyon turned back to Ann. ‘What were we talking about?—getting up in the morning, wasn’t it?’
    â€˜Yes, and how rottenly the world is organised!’
    â€˜I know, it’s absurd to think that half the nicest people in it have to slave away at some beastly job for the best years of their lives when they might be enjoying themselves in so many lovely places.’
    â€˜Would you do that if you had lots of money?’
    â€˜I might….’
    â€˜Then I think you would be wrong.’ The tawny eyes were very earnest. ‘I’d love it for a holiday, but everybody ought to work at some job or other, and if the rich people spent less of their time lazing about and gave more thought to the welfare of their countries the world might not be in such a ghastly state.’
    â€˜Lots of them do work,’ he protested, ‘what about the fellows who go into the Diplomatic—sit on Commissions—enter Parliament, and all that sort of thing?’
    â€˜Parliament!’ Ann gurgled with laughter. ‘You don’t seriously believe in that antiquated collection of fools and opportunists, do you?’
    â€˜Well, as a matter of fact I do. A few wrong ’uns may get in here and there, but it is only the United British Party which is holding the country together. If it hadn’t been for them we should have gone under in the last crisis.’
    â€˜United British Claptrap!’ she retorted hotly, ‘the same old gang under a new name—that’s all.’
    â€˜Well, you’ve got to have leaders of experience, and there are plenty of young men in the party.’
    â€˜Yes, but the wrong kind of young man. Look at this Marquis of Fane who’s standing in the by-election for mid-Suffolk.’
    â€˜Lord Fane?—yes, well, what about him?’
    â€˜Well, what can a Duke’s son know about imports and taxation? Huntin’ and shootin’ and
gels
with an “e” and
gof
without an “I” are about the extent of his experience I should think.It is criminal that he should be allowed to stand; Suffolk is so hide-bound that he’ll probably get in and keep out a better man.’
    Kenyon grinned at the flushed face on the opposite side of the carriage, and noted consciously how a tiny mole on her left cheek acted as a natural beauty spot. It was amusing to hear this pocket Venus getting worked up about anything so dull as politics. She had imbibed it at Girton, he supposed. ‘You think this Red chap, Smithers, is a better man than Fane then?’ he asked.
    â€˜Probably—at least he is in earnest and has the good of the country at heart.’
    â€˜I doubt it. Much more likely he is out for £400 a year as an M.P. It’s quite a decent income for a chap like that, you know.’
    â€˜Nonsense—that’s just a little childish mud-slinging, and you know it. Anyhow, things will never get any better as long as these hoary old conference-mongers cling to office.’
    â€˜Yes, I agree with you