The Toff and the Fallen Angels Read Online Free PDF

‘The point is, that this is one of those occasions to use that capability, and not indulge in the light-hearted frivolity you semi-intellectual young people find so necessary.’
    â€˜Of course, I gather that, and the fact that the wrong timing is the very snag over which your semi-intellectual angels have fallen.’
    Rollison chuckled.
    â€˜Your point,’ he conceded. ‘Will you have another drink?’
    â€˜You mean, won’t I get off your knee and allow you to breathe more freely.’ She kissed him on the forehead. ‘No, I won’t have another drink and I won’t play the fool any more. I’m absolutely thrilled at the chance, and truly grateful. And—’ she hesitated for a studied effect, then went on: ‘I won’t let you down.’ She was suddenly all movement again, as she sprang off his knee like an India rubber ball. She neither looked nor behaved like her twenty-four years. ‘There’s just one thing. What will happen when the others find that I’m not really qualified?’
    Rollison looked at her solemnly. ‘With a turn like that, no one would suspect you were cheating.’ Before she recovered, he moved towards the telephone. It was five minutes to seven, and he was alone but for Angela, this being Jolly’s evening off. He dialled the number of Smith Hall, and Naomi Smith answered in that unmistakable voice which attracted Rollison in a way he had seldom been attracted before.
    â€˜This is Smith Hall.’
    â€˜This is Richard Rollison, to tell you that Angela is prepared to fall.’
    â€˜Oh, I’m so relieved,’ said Naomi in a tone which was evident proof of her words. ‘The more I think of it the more I like this idea. How soon can she come?’
    â€˜Tomorrow.’
    There was a long pause, before Naomi said in a huskier voice: ‘I don’t really believe in you, Richard. You’re like something spirited out of Aladdin’s lamp.’
    Angela, close to Rollison, was mouthing and touching her lips and her right ear, in imitation telephoning. Rollison held on for a moment, relishing what Naomi had said, and then asked: ‘Would you like to speak to Angela now?’
    â€˜Is she with you? . . . I’d love to.’
    â€˜Hold on,’ Rollison said. He held the instrument out to Angela, then went out of the room. He did not want Angela to think he did not trust her to say what was wise, for beneath her high spirits he had sensed a moment almost of resentment when he had warned her that this was not a game. He could have listened in on the kitchen extension or the one in his room or in Jolly’s bedroom, but did not. Now that he was alone he was contrasting Naomi and Angela, and at the same time wondering what he had let himself in for. He could not even begin to think of a motive for what was going on. It could of course, he decided, be merely a matter of temperamental conflicts within the hostel. Each of the residents obviously had acute personal and probably emotional problems, and with high IQ were likely to suffer more from tension than folk who had a less highly tuned intelligence.
    But Keith Webberson had sent Naomi to him, and Keith was no scaremonger, he must have some reason for anxiety. It was at least possible that Naomi Smith had not yet told him everything, wanting to make sure that he would help before unburdening herself of the whole truth.
    He heard a faint click at the bedroom extension; Angela had rung off, he went to join her, and found her very much more sober, hardly smiling at all.
    â€˜Hallo,’ he said. ‘Problems?’
    â€˜No,’ answered Angela. ‘Not exactly problems, but Mrs Smith made it clear that she is really worried. I’m going to see her right away, Rolly - she’s waiting supper for me. Apparently that’s how she interviews all her prospective angels.’ A flash of humour brightened Angela’s eyes. ‘An angel