The Naive and Sentimental Lover Read Online Free PDF

lot already, actually. Put by, you know.”
    â€œCollector, eh?”
    â€œWell a bit, certainly. But only when the price is right,” he added on the same defensive note. If there’s one thing your English gentleman does understand, it’s the value of money. “I say do you think you could shine that light a little higher? I can’t see a thing.”
    The corridor was lined with portraits of gentle soldiers and murderous civilians. The beam revealed them only capriciously, and this was unfortunate, for Cassidy was sure that, given the chance, he could have identified in their varied features traces of his eccentric escort: the brilliant erratic smile for instance, the pirate’s eyes lit from within, the crop of black hair that fell so nobly over the powerful brow.
    The lantern descended what appeared to be a short staircase, leaving him again in the deepest darkness.
    â€œIt’s interminable,” Cassidy said with a nervous laugh, and then: “I’d never have done this alone. I’m rather afraid of the dark to be honest, always have been. Some people don’t like heights, I don’t like the dark.” In point of fact, Cassidy did not care for heights either, but there seemed no point in spoiling the analogy. “Have you been here long?” he asked, receiving no absolution for this confession.
    â€œTen days.”
    â€œI meant your family.”
    The beam shone briefly on a rusted iron coat hanger, then sank to the floor. “Oh Christ . . . for ever, man, for ever.”
    â€œAnd it was your father who . . .”
    For an uncomfortable moment Cassidy feared he had again trodden upon too delicate ground: a recent death, after all, is not a subject one discusses in the dark. There was quite a delay before he had his answer.
    â€œMy uncle actually, ” the soft voice confessed, and gave a small revealing sigh. “But we were very close.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Cassidy murmured.
    â€œHe was gored by a bull,” his guide continued in a more cheerful tone which reinforced the brogue. “So at least it was quick. None of your ugly lingering, I mean, the peasants dropping in with gruel.”
    â€œWell that’s some consolation,” said Cassidy. “Was he old?”
    â€œVery. And I mean that bull—”
    â€œYes?” said Cassidy, puzzled.
    The lantern appeared to shake in a sudden paroxysm of grief. “Well the bull was terribly old himself. I mean it was kind of death in slow motion. Come to think of it, I don’t know how they caught each other up.”
    Comedy had evidently dispelled tragedy, for now a wild boyish laughter rose to the unseen roof, the beam swayed merrily in time to its peals, and a strong hand descended on Cassidy’s shoulder.
    â€œListen it’s great to have you. Great. You’re doing me a power of good, and that’s the honest truth. Jesus, I’ve been so bored: reading John Donne to the chickadees. Imagine. Great poet, mind, but what an audience. The way they look at you. Jesus. Listen I’ve had a wee drink, you don’t mind that now?”
    Very much to his surprise, Cassidy felt a definite tweak on what the law courts call the upper thigh.
    â€œLike a drop yourself now and then, eh?”
    â€œIndeed yes.”
    â€œSpecially when you’re lonely, or down on your luck a mite?”
    â€œAnd at other times too, I promise you.”
    â€œDon’t do that,” the stranger said shortly, with a sudden change of humour. “Don’t promise a thing.”
    They descended two stairs.
    â€œWho the hell do you meet round here anyway?” he resumed in his jocular tone. “Even the bloody gypsies won’t talk to you. You know, Christ, it’s class, class all the way.”
    â€œOh dear,” said Cassidy.
    The hand still guided his shoulder. As a rule Cassidy did not like to be handled, particularly by men, but the contact disturbed