Earth and High Heaven Read Online Free PDF

think René knows any refugees,” said Erica.
    â€œWell, do something about him, Eric!”
    â€œAll right,” said Erica, struggling to her feet.
    The strange young refugee was tall and very slender except for his shoulders; he had slanting greenish eyes, high cheekbones, a square jaw, and to Erica, looked more Austrian than anything else.
    She said, “Hello, I’m Erica — one of the invisible Drakes. I’m afraid I got home rather late ...”
    â€œMy name’s Marc Reiser,” he said, shaking hands.
    â€œAustrian?”
    â€œNative product,” said Marc.
    â€œOh, Reiser — of course, you’re René’s friend, he’s often talked about you.” She sat down on the window seat and inquired, “Have you seen René recently?”
    â€œNot since he disappeared half an hour ago.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought,” said Erica. “How long have you been standing here?”
    â€œWell, I ...”
    â€œAnd of course he didn’t bother to introduce you to anyone, he never does.” She said, looking amused, “Once he deserted me in the middle of an enormous party, all French Canadians, where I didn’t know anyone, even my hostess ...”
    â€œWhat did you do?” asked Marc with interest.
    â€œI just left. I don’t think anyone would have noticed if René hadn’t come to a couple of hours later and started running around in circles wanting to know where I was. I refused to phone and apologize the next day, so he had to, because they were rather important people and he’d made quite a fuss about bringing me. Now, whenever we go anywhere, he’s scared to take his eyes off me, for fear I’ll do it again. Wouldn’t you like a drink?”
    â€œNot if you have to go and get it. I’ve spent most of the past half hour trying to look like a piece of furniture and all I want is not to be left alone.”
    â€œAll right, then, I won’t leave you if I can help it,” said Erica, smiling up at him.
    There was a pause, during which he looked back at her with a curious directness, and finally he said, “This is an awfully nice room ...”
    â€œYes, it — it is, isn’t it?” said Erica, lamely. Something in the way he had looked at her had thrown her slightly off balance. He was leaning against the window frame, half-turned away from her, with his eyes back at the Van Gogh print over the fireplace again, and after another pause she asked, “You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?”
    â€œYes. I’m with Maresch and Aaronson. I was articled to Mr. Aaronson in my first year at law school and I’ve been there ever since.”
    â€œWhat about Mr. Maresch?”
    â€œHe’s dead.” Marc glanced at her and then said quickly, “I’m not doing much law at the moment, I’m just sort of hanging around at Divisional Headquarters waiting for my unit to be sent overseas.”
    â€œArmy?”
    â€œYes, reinforcements for the first battalion of the Gatineau Rifles — unfortunately,” he added.
    â€œWhy unfortunately?”
    â€œWe’ve just been pigeonholed for the time being, apparently. It doesn’t look as though the first battalion is going to need us until they go into action somewhere. They’ve been sitting in England for almost three years doing nothing.”
    The naval officer and his wife were coming toward them and Erica got up to say goodbye. When they had gone, she remarked, “I didn’t introduce you, because I never have seen any sense in it when people are just leaving.”
    â€œCigarette?” asked Marc.
    â€œYes, thanks.”
    He felt through his pockets and finally produced a folder containing one match. As he held the flame to the end of her cigarette he said, “Your father isn’t here today, is he?”
    â€œHe was here for a while at the beginning and then he evaporated. He