Laughing Gas Read Free Page A

photograph of you in one of the New York papers.'
    'Oh, ah, yes, of course.' I recalled that there had been blokes fooling about with cameras when the boat arrived at New York. 'You know,' I said, giving her a searching glance, 'your face seems extraordinarily familiar, too.'
    'You've probably seen it in pix.'
    'No, I've never been there.'
    'In the pictures.'
    'In the ... Good Lord!' I said. 'You're not April June, are you?' 'Yes.'
    'I've seen dozens of your pictures.' 'Did you like them?'
    'I loved them. I say, did you say you'd been in New York?'
    'Yes. I was making a personal appearance.' 'I wish I'd known.'
    'Well, it wasn't a secret. Why do you wish you had known?'
    'Because ... Well, I mean to say ... Well, what I mean is, I rather hurried through New York, and if I'd known that you were there I - er - I wouldn't have hurried.'
    'I see.' She paused to tuck away a tendril of hair which had got separated from the main body and was blowing about. 'It's rather draughty out here, isn't it?'
    'It is a bit.'
    'Suppose we go back to my drawing-room and I'll mix you a cocktail. It's nearly lunch-time.' 'Fine.'
    'Come along, then.'
    I mused to some extent as we toddled along the train. I was thinking of old Plimsoll. It was all very well, I felt, for old Plimsoll to tell me to be careful, but he couldn't possibly have anticipated anything like this.
    We reached the drawing-room and she rang the bell. A negroid bloke appeared - not the same negroid bloke who had carried the cushion - another - and she asked for ice in a gentle voice. He buzzed off, and she turned to me again.
    'I don't understand English titles,' she said. 'No?' I said.
    'No,' she said. 'There's nothing I enjoy more than curling up with a good English book, but the titles always puzzle me. That New York paper called you the Earl of Havershot. Is an Earl the same as a Duke?'
    'Not quite. Dukes are a bit higher up.'
    'Is it the same as a Viscount?'
    'No. Viscounts are a bit lower down. We Earls rather sneer at Viscounts. One is pretty haughty with them, poor devils.'
    'What is your wife? A Countess?'
    'I haven't got a wife. If I had, she would be a Countess.' A sort of faraway look came into her eyes. 'The Countess of Havershot,' she murmured. 'That's right. The Countess of Havershot.' 'What is Havershot? The place where you live?'
    'No. I don't quite know where the Hav ershot comes in. The family doss-house is at Biddleford, in Norfolk.' 'Is it a very lovely place?' 'Quite a goodish sort of shack.' 'Battlements?' 'Lots of battlements.' 'And deer?' 'Several deer.' 'I love deer.'
    'Me too. I've met some very decent deer.'
    At this point, the ice-bearer entered bearing ice. She dropped the live-stock theme, and started to busy herself with the fixings. Presently she was in a position to provide me with a snort.
    'I hope it's all right. I'm not very good at making cocktails, I'm afraid.'
    'It's fine,' I said. 'Full of personality. Aren't you having one?'
    She shook her head, and smiled that soft smile of hers. 'I'm rather old-fashioned. I don't drink or smoke.' 'Go od Lord! Don't you?'
    'No. I'm afraid I'm very quiet and domestic and dull.' 'No, I say, dash it. Not dull.'
    'Oh, but I am. It may seem odd to you, considering that I'm in pix, but I'm really at heart just a simple little home body. I am never happier than among my books and flowers. And I love cooking.'
    'No, really?'
    'Yes, really. It's quite a joke among my friends. They come to take me out to some party, and they find me in my kitchen in a gingham wrapper, fixing a Welsh rarebit. I am never happier than in my kitchen.'
    I sipped my snootful reverently. Every word that she uttered made me more convinced that I was in the presence of an angel in human shape.
    'So you live all alone at - what was the name of the place you said?'
    'Biddleford? Well, not exactly. I mean, I haven't really
    checked in yet. I only took over a short while ago. But I suppose I shall in due season settle down there. Old Plimsoll