The Hollow Read Online Free PDF Page A

Miguel!
    He was startled—a little disturbed. He hadn’t thought of San Miguel for years. He certainly didn’t want to go back there. All that belonged to a past chapter in his life.
    That was twelve—fourteen—fifteen years ago. And he’d donethe right thing! His judgment had been absolutely right! He’d been madly in love with Veronica but it wouldn’t have done. Veronica would have swallowed him body and soul. She was the complete egoist and she had made no bones about admitting it! Veronica had grabbed most things that she wanted, but she hadn’t been able to grab him! He’d escaped. He had, he supposed, treated her badly from the conventional point of view. In plain words, he had jilted her! But the truth was that he intended to live his own life, and that was a thing that Veronica would not have allowed him to do. She intended to live her life and carry John along as an extra.
    She had been astonished when he had refused to come with her to Hollywood.
    She had said disdainfully:
    â€œIf you really want to be a doctor you can take a degree over there, I suppose, but it’s quite unnecessary. You’ve got enough to live on, and I shall be making heaps of money.”
    And he had replied vehemently:
    â€œBut I’m keen on my profession. I’m going to work with Radley. ”
    His voice—a young enthusiastic voice—was quite awed.
    Veronica sniffed.
    â€œThat funny snuffy old man?”
    â€œThat funny snuffy old man,” John had said angrily, “has done some of the most valuable research work on Pratt’s Disease—”
    She had interrupted: Who cared for Pratt’s Disease? California, she said, was an enchanting climate. And it was fun to see the world. She added: “I shall hate it without you. I want you, John—I need you.”
    And then he had put forward the, to Veronica, amazing suggestion that she should turn down the Hollywood offer and marry him and settle down in London.
    She was amused and quite firm. She was going to Hollywood, and she loved John, and John must marry her and come too. She had had no doubts of her beauty and of her power.
    He had seen that there was only one thing to be done and he had done it. He had written to her breaking off the engagement.
    He had suffered a good deal, but he had had no doubts as to the wisdom of the course he had taken. He’d come back to London and started work with Radley, and a year later he had married Gerda, who was as unlike Veronica in every way as it was possible to be….
    The door opened and his secretary, Beryl Collins, came in.
    â€œYou’ve still got Mrs. Forrester to see.”
    He said shortly: “I know.”
    â€œI thought you might have forgotten.”
    She crossed the room and went out at the farther door. Christow’s eyes followed her calm withdrawal. A plain girl, Beryl, but damned efficient. He’d had her six years. She never made a mistake, she was never flurried or worried or hurried. She had black hair and a muddy complexion and a determined chin. Through strong glasses, her clear grey eyes surveyed him and the rest of the universe with the same dispassionate attention.
    He had wanted a plain secretary with no nonsense about her, and he had got a plain secretary with no nonsense about her, but sometimes, illogically, John Christow felt aggrieved! By all the rules of stage and fiction, Beryl should have been hopelessly devoted to her employer. But he had always known that he cut no ice with Beryl. There was no devotion, no self-abnegation—Berylregarded him as a definitely fallible human being. She remained unimpressed by his personality, uninfluenced by his charm. He doubted sometimes whether she even liked him.
    He had heard her once speaking to a friend on the telephone.
    â€œNo,” she had been saying, “I don’t really think he is much more selfish than he was. Perhaps rather more thoughtless and