Читать книгу The Passionate Quest онлайн

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Matthew entered in the midst of Rosina's almost tearful remonstrances. He drew off his overcoat, looking all the time at Philip with an air of disfavour. Philip, as a matter of fact, was not looking his best. His collar was soiled, his tie had wandered to one side, his clothes were crumpled and his hair unkempt. He seemed thinner than ever, and the single spot of colour in his cheeks was certainly not healthy. Yet there was a sort of grace about him as, with his elbow on the back of the sofa and his head resting upon his hand, he listened with a smile, half-apologetic and half-conciliatory, to Rosina's remonstrances.

"It's really no good being angry with me," he said. "I walked all the way down to the other side of Fleet Street to see a fellow who knows an editor. We went to several wine shops together to try and find him. My friend stood me two drinks. I'd rather he'd paid for something to eat, but I couldn't mention it, could I?"

"Why didn't you go out and get something when you reached home?" Rosina protested.