Black August Read Online Free PDF

to induce his publishers to renew their contracts and actually put into print those long dissertations upon the hesitations of the human soul which he evolved so laboriously.
    â€˜My love,’ he said, smiling wanly at his Junoesque spouse.
    â€˜Hildebrand!’ she swayed towards him—they kissed.
    To Ann, there was something incredibly grotesque about the performance; the fat, emotional woman in her too highly coloured clothes, the lank, disappointed man who, despite the August weather, still wore a thin dark overcoat which dangled far below his knees.
    â€˜Hildebrand—my treasure, we must hurry!’ exclaimed Mrs.Pomfret with a quick return to the practicalities of life.
    â€˜But where?’ the man turned sad, dark eyes upon his wife.
    â€˜Zumo, my darling—had you forgotten?—and Chitterson Phlipper will be there, perhaps we can persuade him to take your article on the sex-life of the cryptogam.’
    â€˜Ah, yes. Let us go then.’ He held the door open for her with the elaborate courtesy of an old-fashioned actor, but her exit was momentarily impeded by the hurried entrance of Miss Griselda Girlie.
    Griselda tossed a heavy satchel on to a nearby chair as the Pomfrets left the room. She was studying for her medical degree, and still taking student courses through the long vacation. Striding over to the hideous plush-covered mantelpiece, she looked quickly through the leters. ‘Oh dear,’ she sighed to Ann. ‘He hasn’t written—he won’t now, I don’t think.’
    Ann nodded sympathetically; she knew that Griselda had tasted one glorious evening of romance when a young traveller in medical implements had made love to her at a students’ dance. For a few days Griselda had been almost beautiful—but that was a fortnight ago, and now once more she was bony—plain. Ann felt that it was unkind to encourage her to hope. She knew that Griselda was desperately, tragically, anxious to be loved—but how could any man in sober earnestness desire to caress that gaunt unprepossessing body, or kiss those pale bloodless lips.
    â€˜Perhaps it is just as well dear,’ she said softly, ‘an affair would handicap you terribly in your work.’
    â€˜I’m sick of work,’ Griselda threw herself angrily into the second-best arm-chair.
    That’s because you’ve been doing too much,’ Ann soothed her. ‘Take a day or two off, and you’ll feel better.’
    Griselda shrugged despondently. ‘Oh, what’s the good, Ann—why are we cursed with sex I wonder?’
    â€˜Who is cursed with sex?’ asked a quick voice behind them. Gregory Sallust had entered unobserved.
    â€˜I am,’ cried Griselda fiercely, to Ann’s amazement.
    He laughed, not unkindly. ‘Blessed, you should say, my dear. Sex is the one great escape we have from the incredible dreariness of daily life. It only becomes a curse when you haven’t the courage to get it out of your system in the normal way.’
    â€˜Shut up!’ said Ann sharply. She was feeling acutely for theother girl, and wondered how Gregory could be so wantonly cruel.
    â€˜You’re a medico,’ he went on blandly, ignoring Ann. ‘Be sensible then, put aside your stupid little suburban prejudices and make the young man happy. No harm could come to you, and it would probably cure your indigestion.’
    â€˜What a brute you are!’ Griselda flung at him. ‘As though any girl could go out into the street and offer herself to the first comer.’
    Gregory ran his hand over his dark, smooth hair. ‘Dear me, I thought you had a man in tow already—but never mind, the other is just as good—clinically!’
    â€˜How revolting! I couldn’t!’ gasped Griselda.
    â€˜Why not?’ his voice was sharp—imperious. The scar which lifted the outer corner of his left eyebrow gave his long, rather sallow face a strangely