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He hung up the receiver. It was one of his brusque days, aggravated no doubt by
nerves at the prospect of marriage. When I left the office that evening Hugh was
already on his way down the stairs. Outside in the street a warm wind was
blowing. We walked together across the square. I told him that I had seen Lipfield
that afternoon in the City. 'Oh yes,' Hugh said. 'I've been to several sittings
recently. I took Roberta Payne to one of them, as a matter of fact— as she
Eustace and I followed Mrs. Cromwell towards the white-and-gold yacht. Hudson
and Alec Pimley remained at the cafe. When I looked back from the top of the
gangway they were already engrossed in their chat about old times. We went
below into a saloon done up as a bar in a style of quite unusual hideousness.
Mrs. Cromwell rang a bell. A young negro appeared. She told him to bring some
drinks. Eustace with his hands in his pockets walked round the place inspecting
He looked flustered, but pleased with himself. 'I hope my wife has arranged when
we are to meet again,' he said. 'I want to have a chin-wag with old Eustace again.'
'She's going to ring us up to-morrow,' Eustace said. 'I say, old boy, you've hit it
pretty rich, haven't you?' Alec Pimley gave his melancholy smile. 'Fortune's wheel
,' he said. 'Good-night.' He walked up the gangway. 'The bastard,' Eustace said.
We went on to the cafe. Hudson was sitting with his legs stretched out in front of ...
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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - Big_Bang_Gorilla - LibraryThing
In which a small publishing house in inter-war Britain is thrown into consternation when its most popular author dies unexpectedly at a young age. The thin plot is not really the heart of the book; it ... Read full review