Читать книгу The Peacock Feather. A Romance онлайн

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In two or three minutes, so swift are the ways of cars, he was stopping opposite Mudie’s in Kensington High Street. A carriage with a pair of bay horses was waiting beyond the broad pavement outside the shop. General Carden recognized it as belonging to Mrs. Cresswell. Evidently she had left the Park before him.

He got out of the car and crossed the pavement to the shop. Mrs. Cresswell was also changing library books. She saw him approaching and gave him a smile—a smile at once brilliant, gay, [Pg 63]and charmingly intimate, as was the privilege of an old friend.

“So we meet again,” she said in her crisp, pleasantly decided voice, and she held out her hand. “And how are you this fine May morning?”

“In most excellent health, thank you,” replied General Carden, taking the hand held out to him. “There is no need for me to ask how you are. You look, as you always do, radiant.” He accompanied the words with a gesture almost suggestive of a bow.

“How charming of you!” sighed Mrs. Cresswell, a little laugh in her eyes. “I always feel at least ten years younger when I meet you. And you are on the same errand bent as I. Well, here is one book I can certainly recommend. I am just returning it myself. It is by a new author, and is quite delightful—finished, light, and with a style all its own.” She held up a green-covered book as she spoke, and General Carden read the gold-lettered title, Under the Span of the Rainbow.