Touch and Go Read Online Free PDF Page B

, and sat down at the next table. On the dark road he had been merely a shadow. In the lighted room he appeared as a man of rather more than average height with a quiet, easy way of moving and the look of having spent a good deal of his time out of doors. The brown was very deeply tanned into a skin which might once have been fair. His eyes looked light in contrast, though they were really of quite a deep grey. His hair was brown, with a touch of grey at the temples. His age might have been anything between thirty-five and forty-five. His clothes, though unobtrusive, had an air that was not quite English.
    He caught Henri’s eye as Bertrand Darnac helped himself, and presently he gave an order, picking up the printed menu and indicating what he wished with a finger that looked very brown against the white card. He sat a little behind Sarah, and to her right. Without appearing to watch her he could observe her profile—the arch of her brow, the bright changing colour that glowed on her cheek, and even the effect of the new lipstick which emphasized the curve of her mouth. He could also see Mr. Bertrand Darnac, and he could hear nearly everything they said. Sarah was talking with animation about her interview with Aunt Marina and Uncle Geoffrey. The names reached Mr. John Brown perfectly distinctly as he gave his order to Henri.
    Presently, when Henri was gone, he was able to listen undisturbed … “A nice pussy-woolly old thing,” Sarah was saying. “I’m frightfully good at old ladies. It’s one of my assets. They love me passionately because I let them talk all the time and just say yes or no with early Victorian respectfulness about once in five minutes or so.”
    â€œIs Uncle Geoffrey also going to love you passionately?” said Bertrand impudently.
    Sarah nodded.
    â€œDarling Ran, when I said you could congratulate me, I didn’t just mean the job—I meant Uncle Geoffrey. I came, I saw, I conquered—you know, just like that. He went down like a ninepin, and if I want to be Mrs. Geoffrey Hildred, I can. So there we are!”
    Bertrand frowned a little.
    â€œThat is what you say quick work.”
    â€œI might do worse,” said Sarah calmly. “Much, much worse.”
    â€œAn old man!”
    â€œThat’s just what he isn’t, my child. He’s not old at all—a nice mellow fifty or so, and awfully good-looking—fairish grey hair, bright blue eyes, nice ruddy complexion, very hale and hearty, rather like the squire in a musical comedy, only he’s not a squire, he’s a solicitor with a London practice. There’s money in it, my child. It’s frightfully comic, because he looks as if he’d lived in the country for generations.”
    Bertrand frowned a little more.
    â€œYou will have to—how do you say?—watch the step, my dear. These old boys, they are dangerous. He may make love to you, but when it comes to marriage—” He shrugged his shoulders.
    Sarah gazed at him earnestly.
    â€œAdvice to the young girl who is about to enter the wicked world for the first time! ‘ Ma fille , it is your father who speaks. He has been there and he knows.’” Her tongue shot out and back again. Mr. Brown saw it in profile, a nice, bright red, pointed tongue. “Ran darling, here’s a new idiom for you—‘Go home and boil your head!’ Your Sarah wasn’t born yesterday.”
    Bertrand shrugged again.
    â€œWell, I have warned you.” He broke suddenly into a grin. “He will have his work cut out, that one. Do you know, when I first met you I thought to myself, ‘My Aunt Constance, she has been jolly well had!’”
    â€œThanks, Ran darling.”
    â€œI saw you there—what shall I say?— gouvernante to my Cousin Eleanor, and I thought, ‘Oh la la, she is a lively one that Miss Sarah! There will be some fun for you, Bertrand my boy!’ And if anyone had