A Grave Man Read Online Free PDF

being satirical. ‘Please, Miss Swann, there really is nothing to justify . . .’
    ‘No, but really, I read your reports in the paper. You were wounded at that awful place with the ugly name – something like “hernia” . . .’
    ‘Guernica. Yes, I was but I am quite better now.’
    ‘And Maud Pitt-Messanger . . .’ Virginia went on, almost dropping her Pekinese which was wriggling in her arms.
    ‘Yes,’ Verity said, stretching out her hand. ‘You probably won’t remember, Miss Pitt-Messanger, but we – Lord Edward Corinth and I – met you and your father with Lord Benyon some months ago. And then . . . well, I am very sorry indeed . . .’
    Maud seemed to stir herself with an effort. She spoke in a low husky voice as though it came from deep inside her. ‘You and Lord Edward were so kind . . .’ she murmured. She fumbled in her bag and Verity, guessing what she was searching for, offered her one of her cigarettes.
    ‘Oh, thank you, Miss Browne,’ she muttered.
    Verity lit the cigarette for her and had a strong desire to put out a hand to calm her. She was obviously very agitated, though whether from meeting her and being reminded of her father’s death or because she was anxious and depressed Verity could not say.
    ‘Where are the men?’ Virginia inquired, as though trying to distract attention from the state Maud was in.
    ‘They are sweating out London grime on the tennis court, Ginny,’ Isolde told her. ‘At least that’s what Roddy said. He’s my . . . my fiancé, Miss Browne.’ She blushed and smiled. ‘Dominic – that’s who Roddy’s playing – he’s a doctor, or rather a surgeon, says we all ought to exercise more but I’m afraid he’ll never get Ginny out on the court.’
    ‘Quite right, too,’ Mrs Cardew broke in. ‘It’s very bad for your skin – perspiring like that. And the sun – you’re as brown as a nut, Izzy. It can’t be good for you.’
    Isolde blushed again. At that moment the glass door swung open and a footman entered bearing a tray with a silver teapot on it. Behind him, a maid carried a second tray with sandwiches and cakes on three silver dishes.
    ‘Tea! I must have tea! And a sandwich. I’m dying for a sandwich!’ It was a man’s voice, low and attractive. Verity turned to see that they had been joined by two men still carrying tennis rackets. The young man who had spoken took a sandwich off the tray and made a grab at Isolde and tried to kiss her.
    ‘Go away, Roddy darling.’ Isolde turned her face away, perhaps to draw attention to her fiancé’s ardour. ‘You are all hot and . . . no, you can’t kiss me till you’ve showered.’
    ‘Who won?’ Virginia inquired.
    ‘Thrashed him!’ Roddy replied, waving his sandwich above his head in triumph.
    ‘What rot, Roddy! You’re such a liar. I hope your inability to tell the truth isn’t hereditary. It was 6-4 in the third set. Roddy’s line-calls . . .! You believe me, don’t you, Mrs Cardew?’
    This was Dominic, Verity supposed.
    ‘I am sure you were well matched,’ Virginia said annoyingly. ‘Now, leave Isolde alone and let me introduce you to Miss Browne. I have told them all about you, of course,’ she added to Verity.
    ‘Oh, I hope that doesn’t mean . . .’
    ‘I thought you would be a harridan – positively frightening,’ Roddy said. ‘I was terrified.’ He raised his hands in an exaggerated gesture of surrender. ‘Ginny, why didn’t you tell me your old school chum was a beauty?’
    ‘Roddy, behave yourself,’ Isolde reprimanded, not altogether pleased, Verity thought, by her fiancé’s readiness to appreciate another woman.
    ‘Well, it’s your fault, old girl. If you won’t let me kiss you . . . I always behave badly when I’m thwarted. If I can’t kiss you, Izzy, at least let me have another sandwich.’ He smiled at Verity and then winked at the maid carrying the sandwiches. She blushed prettily as she passed him the plate. This was an attractive man, Verity