Silence in Court Read Online Free PDF

supposing that you are doing a flick?” He turned to Carey. “She’s a fan. Vicarious crime, love, and adventure—lots of it, piping hot.”
    Honor said in a small, obstinate voice,
    â€œPlenty of people like films besides me. You don’t say things like that to them. Why shouldn’t I go to the pictures if I like? If you want to know, I’m meeting Daphne.”
    His eyebrows went up as high as they would go.
    â€œDaphne?”
    Honor looked down at her plate.
    â€œThat’s what I said.”
    â€œI know, I know. Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive! The first step on the downward path! Most confusing to the moral sense to say Daphne when you mean Ernest—no saying what it may lead to—” He broke off as the service door opened to admit the plump young maid. “Molly, is there any beer in the house?”
    â€œMrs. Deeping’s very sorry, Mr. Dennis, but we’ve run out, and they promised it faithful, but it hasn’t come.”
    â€œAll right—curse Hitler! I’ll have water—a drink only meant for fishes.” He addressed Carey. “Which would you rather—drink water all your life, or have to eat marge instead of butter?”
    â€œI drink water anyhow.”
    â€œHence the schoolgirl complexion!”
    It brightened.
    Molly took away the plates, and the meal went on. As soon as it was over Honor disappeared. Dennis led the way to what he called the Study, a quite pleasant and not at all exotic room, with comfortable chairs, a log fire, book-lined walls, a wireless cabinet, and a piano.
    â€œWhy haven’t we met before? Where have you been hidden? One of Aunt Honoria’s feuds?”
    Carey nodded.
    â€œSomething like that. She loved my grandmother, and she wanted to adopt my mother. When my grandfather wouldn’t hear of it, there was a split. After my mother married they met once or twice, but Cousin Honoria didn’t get on with my father—not at all. Then my mother died—a motor accident—and it was the same thing over again. She wanted to adopt me, and there was a simply tearing row. My father went off abroad—he wrote, you know—and left me with his sister. And then he died, and she died just as I was leaving school. She’d been living on an annuity, and there was only just enough money to see me through a secretarial course. And then my old headmistress got me a job with Mr. Andrews, who was an M.P. and an old friend of hers. He was a pet, and so was his wife in a way, and I stayed there until the other day. He was killed when they machine-gunned the train we were in, and Cousin Honoria saw my name in the papers and wrote to the hospital and asked me to come and stay with her. I’m not supposed to take a job for three months.”
    â€œA very nice succinct autobiography. But you’ve left nearly all of it out. No love-life?”
    â€œAbsolutely none.”
    â€œThen it won’t sell.”
    Molly came in with the coffee, and he went on talking about autobiographies and what made them sell until she had gone out of the room. Then he laughed and said,
    â€œI wonder what Candid Confessions by Honor would be like. Why are women with white eyelashes born liars? I’ll say that for Nora, she doesn’t tell lies—at least not often enough to notice. But Honor—” He sketched a circle with his cigarette, and a spark fell, going out as it touched the carpet.
    â€œShe’s frightened. Why do you frighten her?”
    The hazel eyes looked at her, a curious straight look.
    â€œWhat’s she got to be frightened about? No more than the rest of us. She can’t take it, that’s all. No guts, like the Elle-maids. As far as I remember, they were very like our darling Honor. They had fair hair, they looked like women until you got behind them, and then there wasn’t anything inside them—no back, no innards—nothing