Читать книгу The Counterplot онлайн

35 страница из 75

“So like a flower himself, eh?” grinned Dick, with a sudden vision of his large, massive, overbearing son-in-law.

“I’m sure flowers really irritate Harry horribly,” said Concha. “They’ve probably got the Oxford manner, or are not Old Liberals, or something.”

“You are quite right, Concha. Both flowers and children irritate him,” said the Doña bitterly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Dick, with indifferent good humour. “By the way,” he added, “I’ve asked a young fellow called Munroe down for the week-end. He’s representing a South African sugar firm we have to do with ... it’ll be all right, won’t it?”

“Well, Arnold’s written to say he’s coming, and he doesn’t like strangers, you know,” said the Doña.

“Well, I’m blessed ... has it come to this ...” he spluttered, roused completely out of his habitual good humour.

“No, it hasn’t,” said Concha soothingly, and laid a hand on his.

“Well, all the same, it’s ...” he growled; and then subsided, slightly appeased.

The Doña, quite unmoved, continued placidly eating her sole. Then she remarked, “And where is your friend to sleep, may I ask? Arnold is bringing down Guy and a cousin of his. When the children are here you know how little room we have.”