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The Long Trick

Chapter 9 SWEETHEARTS AND WIVES

Word Count: 3384    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

y. She rose from the table at length and walked to the open casement window; a cat, curled up on the rug in front of the small wood fire, opened one eye and blinked contemplatively at the slim figure

the dusty road that ended in a confused fringe of trees bordering the blue waters of the Firth. A flotilla of Destroyers that had been lying at anchor overnight had sli

n round a corner of the cottage rehe

It might, it might, it might-or

from the India-rubber Man had brought Betty flying up to

journey of incredible discomforts. But no India-rubber Man had been there to welcome her; instead a prett

Standish?" she

her hand, Betty experienced a faint jolt of

anced half-expectantly

husband woul

head. "I'm afraid his

ded reassuringly, "But

told me you were com

erin

"You got me rooms, didn't you

get used to tubbing in your basin, and-and little things like that. But everything's nice and clean, and that's more than some of the places are." They had sorted out Betty's luggage

e shops alternated, and half-way up the street a rather more pretentious hotel of quarried stone rose above the level of the roofs. Hills formed a background to the whole, with clumps of dark fir clinging

out a quarter of a mile behind it, and as they ascended a steep lane she turned and pointed with her ashpl

nd your luggage up presently. I hope you'll be comfortable. No, I won't come in now. I expect you're tired after travelling all night. You must come an

ick-nacks until the drab surroundings seemed to reflect a little of her dainty personality. Thither, later in the day, she took Betty off

in we shall never see each other!" She turned to Etta Clavering. "It's like that up here, isn't it? We sit in

ther three: a sweet, rather grave-faced woman with patient eyes that looked as if they had watched and waited th

our army of-waiters, I was going to say, but it sounds silly. Waitresses hardly

aid Betty, a tr

f some of these women whose husbands are on leave. When Bill comes I shall hang on his arm in my best 'clinging-ivy-and-the-

ter. "Are there many of-o

," replied Mrs. Gascoigne, the new-comer. "And, of course, the little town, about four miles from here, nea

it's no use being a hypocrite about it. I'd stay on if they all put me in Coventry and I had to pawn my wedding ring to pay for my rooms. One feels nearer, somehow.... Do sit down all o

he rooms are dreadfully

l the War began they never let anything in their lives. No one ever wanted to come and live here. Of course, there are nice women-like your Miss McCallum, for example-who won't take advantage of the e

ng smile. "You don't have to pay anything to be out of doors," she said. "That much is free, even here; it's perfectly delightful country, and when

The speaker extended a slender forefinger, to which she imparted a little wriggling motion. "They wobble ... like that-when she talks. She always talks when she brings in meals.... I suppose it's funny, really

th Mrs. Daubney. She's laid up, poor thing, and it's so dull for her all alone in those stuffy rooms." She held out her hand to Betty. "I hope we shall see a lot more

dish explored the room in search of cigarett

. Her husband is a senior Post-captain, and there isn't an atom of 'side' or snobbishness in her composition. She is just as sweet to that hopelessly dull and dreary Daubney woman as she is to-well, to charming and well-bred attractions like ourselves!"

otographs and puffing her cigarette. "But even the War isn't going to make me fall on the ne

she is nice? Yet if it weren't for people like Sybil Gascoigne we should all be clinging to our ridiculous little pre-war sets, and talking of branches and seniority till we died of loneliness and boredom with our aris

abruptly. "There I go again! There's no doubt about it: I have got a liv

uite young for the most part, and many were pretty. They drank each other's tea and talked about their husbands and the price of

her arrival, where she was introduced to the small Scottish shopkeeper getting rich q

moreover, she secured the

king for you. But I'll take you to the Widow Twankey; I'm one of her protégées, and she shows her affection for me by feeling for my ribs wit

Cavendish suffered her ribs to be prodded in a good cause, and the Widow agreed to "wash for"

the snowy Grampians, bracing the walkers like a draught of iced wine. They even climbed some of the nearer hills, forcing their way through the ta

ometimes with an unexpectedness embarrassing to both parties, they met some of the reunited couples whom Eileen Cavendish found it

e kettle hung. The meal over, Mrs. Pat would produce a blackened cigarette holder and sit and smoke with reflective enjoyment while she translated the rustling, furtive sounds of life in brake and hedge-row around them for the benefit of anyone who cared to listen. No one knew whence she had acquired such mysteri

nd a hint of the Overseas in the lazy, unstudied grace of her movements. She spoke sparingly, and listened to the

threshold while she cleared away the evening meal, and so the morning of the ninth day found Betty

she watched it until the hedge terminated, when it resolved itself into the top of Eileen Cavendish's hat. Her

little garden, and her heart quickened a

morning. Mrs. Monro-that's my landlady-has a brother in th

m Betty's cheeks, and then her beat

s that mean that our s

if we can get a glimpse of them coming in. You'll have plenty of time to get down again and powde

h stretch of moorland from which a view of

stopped and panted for breath. "Ouf! I'm getting fat and s

ee months and seventee

panion

ng to say; but I suppose it's hardly that. I always vowed I'd never marry a sailor, and ever sin

to watch the distant entrance. A faint grey haze beyond the headlands o

ing in sight,

in the cup of her two hands. "You haven't got used to waiting yet," she continued. "It seems to have made up half my

en lunch-time came; nothing moved across the surface of the empty ha

after tea," suggested Betty. "P

," said

y read novels and talked in desultory snatches through the afternoon. Then they had tea and told each other about the books they were reading. But as their shadows lengthened acr

ards the sea. "I wonder..." she began, and her voice trailed off into silence. Betty began slowly to repack the basket. "Sometimes I pray," said Ei

her breath and the other held her thumbs

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