Hollow Crown Read Free Page B

suppose Verity was in the thick of it?’ Edward broke in.
    ‘I’ll show you the account she filed for the paper. It’s one of her most powerful pieces. You really ought to read the New Gazette more carefully Edward.’
    Scannon said, ‘Verity Browne? She’s your pet “pinko”, isn’t she Joe? I can’t think why you employ her.’
    ‘Because she’s a damn good journalist, that’s why,’ said Weaver firmly.
    Edward was about to say something more in her defence – not that she would have been in the least put out to be excoriated by a man like Scannon, indeed she would most likely have taken it
as a compliment – when the woman by the fireplace spoke.
    ‘She is a friend of yours – Miss Browne?’ Edward was never to forget that first moment he heard her talk. She spoke excellent English but had a distinct accent which he could
not place immediately. He was later to learn that she was Javanese-Dutch. Her voice was husky and low but could never have been mistaken for a man’s.
    ‘Yes, she is,’ Edward said. ‘I do apologize but we haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Corinth – Edward Corinth.’
    ‘I know who you are, Lord Edward.’
    Weaver interjected: ‘Blanche, my dear, what have you been thinking of? Edward, may I introduce Catherine Dannhorn – “Dannie” to everyone. Dannie, this is Lord Edward
Corinth.’
    ‘Lord Edward, I am so pleased to meet you. Joe has been singing your praises. I hope you will call me Dannie.’ She transferred her cigarette holder to her left hand and gave Edward
her right. ‘I am such an admirer of Miss Browne. She has done what so few of us have dared to do: leave the comfort of our homes and families and find out what is really happening. Is she a
great friend?’
    ‘Yes, she is indeed . . . Dannie. She doesn’t approve of me, of course. She thinks I waste my time and no doubt she’s right. She thinks we are dangerously indifferent to what
is happening in Spain. She sees it as the first great battle in the war against Fascism.’
    ‘What nonsense!’ Scannon expostulated. ‘Girls belong in the home. Don’t you agree, Blanche? I don’t know what her father is thinking of allowing her to racket
around Europe meddling in things she knows nothing about. She ought to leave journalism to men. Surely, you must agree with me, Joe? Admit it, it’s just a stunt having this girl writing for
you.’
    Edward was almost unaware of what Scannon was saying. His eyes were fixed on Dannie’s face. Her almond eyes, high cheekbones and dark, silky skin captivated him. She was like nothing he
had ever seen before and Blanche looked pale and insipid in comparison. Before Weaver could answer Scannon, the butler announced that Mrs Simpson’s car was drawing up in front of the house
and he bustled out to greet her. The others were silent, expectant, as though the King himself was about to join the company.
    ‘We don’t have to curtsy, do we?’ Blanche inquired nervously. ‘I’ve only met her with the King before.’
    ‘Certainly not!’ said Scannon. ‘Though we might have to in a few months’ time.’
    Edward pulled himself together and tried to think what he was going to say to the lady. It was, he thought, deuced awkward. He understood why he had been selected to retrieve her letters from
Molly. He was an old friend of hers and, just as important, he would not be associated in her eyes with the King or, indeed, Mrs Simpson. He had met Molly Harkness when he had been in Kenya. She
had at that time still been married to a young lawyer but Happy Valley had been anything but happy for the young couple. There had been so little to do and many of the English there were not of the
best sort – rakes, remittance men, divorcees. A fair sprinkling had, as the saying went, ‘left the country for their country’s good’. Molly had had a string of affairs while
her husband, Raymond, had become a gambler and a drunkard. It was said he had come home from