11 Clue For Mr Fortune by H. C. Bailey

Author:H. C. Bailey [Bailey, H. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THE WISTFUL GODDESS

MR. FORTUNE lay in a hammock. The spreading lime - tree which supported it and gave him shade was golden and fragrant, and rustled with the multitudinous murmur of bees. Thus lulled, he contemplated his wife’s pleasing neck and the cream and red roses behind it, and their framework of lilies and delphiniums. The neck, which had been bent to write a letter, became erect. “Bless you,” he approved. “Quite perfect, Joan”; and then ejaculated, “Oh, Peter!” as he saw why she had looked up. She turned for a moment to give him a little grimace of sympathetic woe, and was again serene, a benign hostess. “Woman, woman,” he reproached her.

The lilies were obscured by a man - a lanky man of swinging arms and legs and a gaudy taste in clothes. He waved his hand; he gave a bleat of a laugh. “What - ho! What - ho!” he called.

“He has a silly face!” Mrs. Fortune gurgled. It was a face which sloped sharply from the hair to the point of the long nose, from the nose point to the neck, which looked at the world with puzzled craving for a good time.

“How kind of you to come down here to us, Bertie.” Mrs Fortune held out her hand.

“Oh, lady! Not so. Thanks very much and all that. Bad lad. Only come for what I can get. Jolly old luck finding the great man.” He turned on Mr. Fortune a sheepish stare. “I’ve had a spot of bother, sir, do you mind? Real hard knock. Absolutely. Broke me right up. Definitely.”

“You, Bertie?” Mrs. Fortune lifted her eyebrows. “Yes, lady. Jolly old Bertie. Thought it was a tough old nut, what, what? Me too. And he’s cracked. Believe me. I wouldn’t have. But here’s Bertie. All in bits. Just like that. It’s a girl. Laugh, won’t you? Don’t mind me. I’ve been laughing.”

“Have you?” said Mrs. Fortune gently.

“Go away, lady,” he muttered, and looked at the ground. But when she rose: “No, I don’t mean that” - he caught her arm - “‘s nothing like that; “s all right; you know what I mean?” He was desperately earnest. “Straight doings. Honest to God!”

“Tell me.” Mrs. Fortune sat down again.

“I say, you don’t mind, sir?” He turned to Reggie. “It’s this way. A little girl I met at the Upsidown - -”

“Night - club?” Reggie asked.

“Now, don’t get me wrong. Yes, it is. And some torrid stuff about, I grant you. But Pearl’s not in that push. She used to drop in just for a cheerio. Some of the best do it, what, what? I mean to say, when not the merry old self, a spot of racket, don’t you know?” He found no sympathy in Reggie’s sleepy face, and went on nervously: “That’s how it was with Pearl, I give you my word. She told me so. And I didn’t need telling. Only had to look at her. I’m hard - boiled. I’ve no use for ‘em unless they’re merry and bright.

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