Читать книгу Five Quarters of the Orange / Пять четвертинок апельсина онлайн

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Laure interrupted him.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” she said, almost harshly. “I’m not so old, am I?”

I shook my head.

“Of course not.”

“And of course, at that time there was the added expense of looking after Papa to think about. He had hardly anything left, Mamie,” said Yannick, biting into one of my sablés. “All he had came from us. Even his house.”

I could believe it. Cassis was never one to hoard wealth. He slid it through his fingers in smoke, or more often into his belly. Cassis was always his own best customer in the Paris days.

“Of course we wouldn’t think of begrudging him that.” Laure’s voice was soft. “We were very fond of poor Papa, weren’t we, chéri?”

Yannick nodded with more enthusiasm than sincerity.

“Oh, yes. Very fond. And of course… such a generous man. Never felt any resentment at all about… this house, or the inheritance, or anything. Extraordinary.”

He glanced at me then, a sharp ratty slice of a look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I was up at once, almost spilling my coffee, still very conscious of Pistache sitting next to me, listening. I had never told my daughters about Reinette or Cassis. They never met. As far as they knew I was an only child. And I had never spoken a word about my mother.