Better to Eat You by Charlotte Armstrong Page B

have caught a glimpse through the window of the red presence on the parking apron. “Such a beautiful new car!” She spoke impulsively. And again David noticed the sheen and the sparkle that fell away when she wasn’t solemn or frightened.
    â€œPretty flashy for a college professor,” he said casually and turned to catch Malvina’s expression.
    She had none. She offered him her blinkless gaze. “I hope the salt air won’t be too bad for it,” Malvina purred. “We can’t offer you garage space unless we share off. Sarah’s little Chevy stands out, as it is. There’s Grandfather’s Cadillac, and Edgar’s Dodge, and my convertible. Even so, we haven’t enough cars. Moon, going to market today, had to borrow mine.”
    â€œIt’s a fantastic world,” David said, shaking his head, “where nobody walks. Here’s what I was looking for, Miss Lupino.”
    â€œMalvina,” she corrected, lips parted.
    â€œNow that is a direct quotation from the Spanish …”
    Malvina looked at the page and blinked.
    â€œMy handwriting,” groaned David, “I know. It’s terrible. Sarah?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œWe may as well know the worst. Can you read my handwriting?”
    â€œOf course I can.” He saw the flash of emotion cross her face. She took the paper and read off fluently what he had written on it.
    â€œYou can. Well, good. That will save work.” He twitched the paper out of her hand and went on talking to Malvina.
    But he remembered and realized he had omitted to consider a thing he had once divined. This girl … Now he remembered the two betraying words she had said to him in that cafeteria. “ Not you, ” she had said. This girl—he groaned to himself, feeling sorry—was fond of him. David was used to it in all those young students. He wished it were not so of Sarah. This was a factor he wished he did not have to deal with. He was sorry.
    When Edgar put his head in and announced that lunch was ready in the garden, Malvina professed to be surprised. “Where has the morning gone? We have been spellbound!”
    â€œHeard the lecture myself,” said Edgar dryly. “Down in my lab. It came very loud and clear right through the floor.”
    David passed his hand over his hair. “Look here, am I going to disturb you? I’ll have to be doing a lot of dictation and the typewriting will go on and on.”
    â€œI don’t mind. If you don’t,” Edgar said. He had a small mouth under a long upper lip. When he tried to clamp his mouth sourly it merely looked childish. “Lunch,” he repeated. The small eyes were fixed upon Malvina.
    As they left the studio, Edgar pointed out the gap in the wall between garage and kitchen wing where a flight of steps went down to his own little cubby-hole built against the lower story of the garage proper. Edgar explained that he fooled around in there intermittently. He seemed vague about it. They passed Moon’s ridiculous little kitchen garden. They came to the round table set under the carob tree.
    David looked around. “Miss Lupino … Malvina … this will not do. Please, after today, could Sarah and I have a sandwich or something in the studio? I’ll never get any work done otherwise.”
    â€œNo need to be social that I can see,” said Edgar gloomily.
    â€œAfter today,” Malvina’s soft promise went to David, or Edgar, or both … there was no telling.
    David felt some relief when Malvina excused herself after lunch. Fox had not appeared He was somewhere within and apart.
    Edgar, however, almost as if he had been instructed, did not leave them until they came to the steps that went down. Then, still with that air of obedience, he swung off to go to his lab again. David bit his lip and reflected. So, Edgar could hear through the floor, could he? David was trying to phrase something to