The Fifth Kiss Read Free Page A

natural in our position to indulge in imaginings.’ But ‘imaginings’ does not truly reflect the quality of the Greek. It should be more like ‘phantasies,’ I think. Look here, child … what do you think? Shall I use ‘phantasies’ instead?”
    â€œI think ‘imaginings’ sounds perfectly clear. But if you are unsatisfied with it, why not try ‘fancies’?”
    â€œ Fancies ?” He gazed up at her with a smile she could almost have called affectionate. “That’s very good ! Very good indeed! Fancies! ” He turned back to his paper and scribbled in the word rapidly. Then, as if his daughter were not there, he went right on reading.
    Olivia determinedly perched on the desk in front of him. “Now that you’ve found your word, Papa, can you not talk to me?”
    â€œYes, of course, my dear,” he said, not looking up. “What is it?”
    â€œI was wondering, Papa, if you … that is … er … have you a liking for Strickland?”
    â€œStrickland? Clara’s Strickland?”
    â€œYes, Papa. Clara’s Strickland.”
    â€œWell, of course I like him. Fine fellow, Miles. Very clever on the subject of tariffs and finance.”
    Olivia snorted impatiently. “I’m not speaking of his Tory politics, but of—”
    â€œOf course,” Sir Octavius mused, lifting his head and chewing the tip of his pen thoughtfully, “he’s perhaps not expert in Greek philosophy, but if he gave it some real attention, I’m sure … but really, Olivia, must you sit just there ? You’re crushing my papers!”
    â€œSorry, Papa.” She slipped off the desk and straightened the pile of closely written notes. “I wasn’t speaking of his mind . I meant his character. ”
    â€œWhose character?” her father muttered absently, having returned to his papers again.
    â€œ Strickland’s ! Your son-in-law’s!” she said in complete annoyance.
    â€œOh, yes. Fine fellow. Already said so. Now here, in this next line, shall I say ‘council’ or ‘conference’? Council connotes a meeting of a body of men who meet regularly—wouldn’t you say?—while conference sounds like a more spontaneous assemblage. ‘Conference,’ therefore, seems closer to the facts, I think. Yes, ‘conference’ it shall be.”
    Olivia frowned irritably at his bent head. She should have known better than to expect any help from him. Sir Octavius Matthews had a marvelous mind, but not for family matters. “But you will come to see her off, won’t you, Papa?” she asked as she walked dolefully toward the door.
    â€œEh? See whom off?” he murmured.
    â€œOh, really , Papa! Clara ! She’s leaving right after breakfast.”
    â€œWell, Olivia, I’m at a crucial place just now.” He didn’t look up from the page before him. “Tell her goodbye for me. Love to the children … good trip and all that.” And he waved her away.
    She closed the study door behind her and sighed. Her father was a strange sort. He was not a bit gregarious— living people didn’t seem to interest him. Only dead Greeks engaged his mind. Even at dinner, the only time of day he joined the family, he scarcely ever engaged in conversation; his mind was still occupied with the books that had engaged him during the day—the Poetics , or Plato’s Republic or his favorite History of the Peloponnesian War . She was foolish to have expected to receive any assistance from him in dealing with real problems. If Thucydides hadn’t recorded it, if Aristotle hadn’t codified it, or if Plato hadn’t ruminated on it, the problem had no reality for him.
    She had to turn elsewhere for advice, but she was not sure where. The logical choice should be Charles. He was the most sensible, well-rounded member of the family, despite the fact that he