Jack of Diamonds Read Online Free PDF Page B

‘What is it?’
    ‘It’s about books, Missus . . .’
    ‘Mrs Hodgson , if you please. “Missus” means something quite different. It’s servile.’ She looked up over the top of her glasses.
    ‘Sorry, Mrs Hodgson.’
    She removed the cap from the top of the pen and slotted it over the gold nib. ‘Do you know what servile means?’
    ‘No, Mrs Hodgson.’
    ‘You will look it up in the dictionary before you leave, young man! Now, what is it you want?’ Her spectacles had black rims and made her look even fiercer.
    ‘It’s about borrowing.’
    ‘That’s what we do in a library.’
    I was floundering, my carefully prepared script forgotten. ‘Can I take out two on the same day?’ I blurted. ‘Please,’ I added belatedly.
    ‘The answer is probably going to be no you can’t, but you have the right to state your case. Go ahead.’
    I was panicking. ‘Snowdrifts.’
    ‘Snowdrifts? I don’t understand.’
    At last I had the opportunity to give my prepared speech. ‘It’s almost winter and soon the snow will come and I have to walk a long way in the biting cold to get here and I could easily fall into a snowdrift and break my leg.’
    One eyebrow shot up. ‘Oh? Pray tell.’
    ‘Then I have to walk back again in the dark when you can’t see the snow and it’s even more dangerous.’
    ‘More snowdrifts?’
    ‘Yes. I don’t mind the cold because I love to read, but my mom worries about me. You see, she works nights and she’s afraid I’ll fall into a snowdrift, and nobody would know if something awful happened, like I broke my leg, and then I’d freeze to death.’ I really laid it on thick, looking brave, then sad, then pathetic. I admit I got a bit carried away.
    I almost told Mrs Hodgson about what a loss I’d be to my mom if I couldn’t get home in time to prepare her chilblain treatment but at the last moment thought better of it. People who suffer from chilblains, and maybe she was one of them, are always interested to know someone else’s method of treating them and I thought she might ask me what I put in my concoction.
    She removed her spectacles, bowed her head, pressed her eyes with her forefinger and thumb and sighed. Then she looked at me again. ‘Now, Jack, rules should not be broken. What if I let every child take out two books at a time?’
    ‘It’d be good, Mrs Hodgson. You’d have less work . . . and more time to read,’ I said quickly.
    Mrs Hodgson looked stern but I could tell she was now smiling on the inside a bit. ‘I’ll think about it and let you know if we can make an exception in your case, Master Jack Spayd.’ Then she gave me a hard look. ‘You certainly know how to mount an argument, but the bit about trudging through snowdrifts and breaking your leg was sloppy thinking. Except for an occasional blizzard, it only snows about half-a-dozen times a month in winter, and, as you would well know, a single snowfall is seldom more than four inches deep. The likelihood of any of these factors causing a healthy young boy to break his leg and freeze to death is remote. Do you know what a specious argument is, Jack?’
    ‘No, Mrs Hodgson.’
    ‘Then the word “specious” is the second you will look up before you leave.’
    ‘Yes, Mrs Hodgson, thank you for seeing me.’ I knew it was all over; my dramatic account hadn’t fooled Mrs Hodgson for one moment. I’d imagined fierce winters and dangerous snowdrifts when I’d read White Fang , the book I’d just finished. That’s the one problem with books. Facts and fiction get mixed up with your real life.
    I turned to leave.
    ‘Wait a minute, Jack Spayd. I haven’t finished with your . . . prognostication yet. If I were you, I should be more careful with facts in the future, my boy. Facts remain facts, no matter how you deck them out in fancy dress.’ She reached for the fountain pen and tapped its end on the top of her desk three times.
    ‘I shall make an exception in your case, Jack. You’re the only