Fortune's Hand Read Online Free PDF

now.”
    â€œI drove here with friends, two cars full. I’m sure they’d give you a lift. And I guarantee that they’ll be sober.”
    â€œI accept with pleasure. It won’t be more than three miles out of your way, whichever way you’re going. Let me guess. You’re all Honeyman’s friends. School of Law.”
    â€œThat’s right. Third year. Robb MacDaniel,” he said, with his barely visible fraction of a bow.
    â€œEllen Grant. No year. I’ve just graduated from Wellesley.”
    They observed each other. And just as he had previously made an instant judgment of his table companion, he made one now: She’s an artist, or anyway, has something to do with the arts. Her dark, curly hair was fashionably cut, as was her dress. Her face, except for the eyes, was unexceptional. Yet it was the kind of face that is called “fine.” She had poise. She’s not afraid ofanything, he thought, and was at the same time aware that it was a queer thought to be having about a stranger.
    â€œAre those your friends waving at you back there?”
    Eddy and Walt were making gestures meaning that they were ready to leave. “Okay with you, Robb?”
    â€œI’m ready. This is Ellen Grant. She needs a ride home.”
    The Grant house was nowhere near the size of a public library. Family-sized, it looked like any conventional, tasteful house built before the last war. Unlike the place they had just left, it made no attempt to flaunt prosperity. Yet prosperity was evident in its old furnishings and gilt-framed landscapes. Over the mantel in the library hung a portrait of a man in the uniform of a Confederate officer.
    â€œThat’s her great-grandfather,” somebody whispered.
    On the way here it had been decided that they would all go on to a jazz club downtown, but since it was still too early, they would sit around for a while at Ellen’s house. Almost never did Robb refuse a chance to hear jazz, especially when he was to be with his Mill Street friends, and most especially when Eddy was to be there. Eddy brought, as everyone who knew him would agree, a spirit of “let the good times roll.” If you had problems, he made you forget them.
    Yet now Robb wished he did not have to go along. He counted: between the two cars there were ten people,including himself. There was no possible way he could decently refuse.
    Was he turning into some kind of a spoiler? And he sat uncomfortably watching the scene as if he were merely a spectator at the theater. It was a lively scene in a charming room, complete with a handsome auburn setter lying at Ellen’s feet. He was feeling that he did not belong there.
    The new wife, who was sitting next to him, observed his glance. “How long have you known Ellen?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t know her,” Robb replied.
    â€œOh, really? Well you should get to know her. She’s extraordinary. You should see her work. Watercolors. She’s just illustrated a children’s book, and I’ve heard that somebody’s bought it. I’m very fond of her. Isn’t she the prettiest thing?”
    He did not really think she was “the prettiest thing,” but he answered as expected, “Very,” and added, “You’re a generous woman. Most women don’t praise each other so generously.”
    She laughed. “I’m not in competition anymore, you see.”
    He liked her. He liked her honesty and humor. Later, at the jazz club, he managed to seat himself between her and the aisle. He had no intention of “getting to know” Ellen Grant.
    The hospital where Ellen volunteered was on the same avenue as the university, a short distance away. Leaving the hospital a few weeks later, she came face-to-facewith Robb MacDaniel. She had a poor memory for names, so it surprised her that she remembered his, although she very definitely remembered him: he had not liked her. He had