1949: A Novel of the Irish Free State (Irish Century Novels) by Morgan Llywelyn

Author:Morgan Llywelyn [Llywelyn, Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

Finbar Cassidy had listened with inordinate pride to Ursula’s program. When it was over he tried to think of a graceful way to congratulate her without looking as if he was pushing himself forward again.

Ursula invited all four interviewees to join her for dinner at Wynn’s Hotel. She knew better than to ask the broadcasting station to pay for it. The envelope beneath her mattress would be plundered instead.

Malcolm Weed was a sunburnt man with faded eyes. E.G. Bletherington insisted he had no Christian name, only initials, “Because I am not a Christian, my dear.” As for Robert Averitt, Ursula had liked him the moment they met. He treated her as a fellow professional.

When they entered the hotel restaurant, Lewis Baines strode forward and requested a table for five.

Ursula cleared her throat. “I’ve already booked a table.”

The headwaiter noticed the sudden, resentful set of her jaw. “Indeed you have booked a table, Miss Halloran. The best in the house, the one we always give you,” he added with a straight face, although he had never assigned her to “the best table” before. But Ursula had been a customer for years, and he did not like aggressive Englishmen.

“Right this way, please.” The headwaiter seated Ursula first. The Englishman was placed as far from her as possible.

As she unfolded her napkin she turned to Robert Averitt. “Would you care to choose the wine?”

Lewis frowned. Ursula knew he was knowledgeable about wines, yet she was deliberately deferring to someone else.

Throughout the meal he tried to engage her in conversation, but she always managed to speak to someone else first, or change whatever subject he introduced. She was bright and gay and full of laughter; she turned the full force of her personality on every man in turn, dazzling him. Every man except Lewis.

He was mystified. It never occurred to him to examine his recent performance in case he had done something to upset her. Secure with ten centuries of breeding and the Magna Carta behind him, he had the typical British distaste for introspection.

Meanwhile Ursula sat in her body—her treasonous body that had a will of its own, and was irrationally, inexplicably yearning for him in spite of everything, as a plant reaches for the light—and tried not to look at the handsome Englishman glowering at her across the table.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.