Читать книгу The Plumed Serpent. Historical Novel - Life and Love after the Mexico Revolution онлайн

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‘Look at that!’ said Owen. ‘Isn’t that fun!’

‘No,’ said Kate, her little alter ego speaking out for once, in spite of her will-to-happiness. ‘No, I don’t like it. I really hate common people.’

As a socialist, Owen disapproved, and as a happy man, he was disconcerted. Because his own real self, as far as he had any left, hated common rowdiness just as much as Kate did.

‘It’s awfully smart though!’ he said, trying to laugh in sympathy with the mob. ‘There now, see that!’

‘Yes, it’s quite smart, but I’m glad it’s not my hat,’ said Villiers.

‘Oh, it’s all in the game,’ said Owen largely.

But he was uneasy. He was wearing a big straw hat of native make, conspicuous in the comparative isolation of the lower tiers. After a lot of fidgeting, he took off this hat and put it on his knees. But unfortunately he had a very definitely bald spot on a sunburnt head.

Behind, above, sat a dense patch of people in the unreserved section. Already they were throwing things. Bum! came an orange, aimed at Owen’s bald spot, and hitting him on the shoulder. He glared round rather ineffectually through his big shell spectacles.