-'
'You aren't. You can't draw.'
'Thank you, dear. But I do make a living out of it,' said Violet sweetly. 'As a matter of fact I do poster-designs and commercial work, Mr Mesurier. I found I had a sort of knack' - Kenneth sank his head in his hands and groaned - 'a sort of knack,' repeated Violet, 'and I suppose my stuff caught on. I've always had a sense of colour and line, and -'
'Oh, darling, do shut up!' begged Kenneth. 'You've got about as much sense of colour and line as Tony's bull-terriers.'
Violet stiffened. 'I don't know if you're trying to annoy me, but —'
'My angel, I wouldn't annoy you for the world, but if only you'd just be, and not talk!' begged Kenneth.
'I see. I'm to sit mum while you air your views.'
'She can't possibly not talk at all, Kenneth,' said Antonia reasonably. 'What he means is, Don't talk Art.'
'Thank you. I'm quite aware that nobody but Kenneth knows anything about Art.'
'Well, if you're aware of it, why the hell do you -'
'Champagne!' said Rudolph, leaping into the breach. 'Miss Williams, you will, won't you? Tony?'
'Why is there never any ice in this place?' demanded Kenneth, suddenly diverted.
'Because we bought the oak coffer with the money we meant to spend on a refrigerator,' replied Antonia.
This change of topic, coupled with the champagne, saved the party from breaking up there and then. No further references were made to Art, and by the time the quartette rose from the table and drifted over to the other end of the room Violet had softened towards Kenneth, who was passionately anxious to make amends; and Rudolph had volunteered to make Turkish coffee if Murgatroyd didn't mind. He and Antonia went off to the kitchen together, and under Murgatroyd's scornful but indulgent eye brewed a decoction which, though it would have puzzled a Turk, was quite drinkable.
It was a warm evening, and all this exertion made Antonia so hot that she announced her intention of having a bath. She withdrew into the bathroom, reappearing in the studio a quarter of an hour later in beach pyjamas, which became her very well, but offended Murgatroyd, who told her she ought to be ashamed of herself, on a Sunday and all. Kenneth, flat on a divan, had taken off his coat, somewhat to Violet's disapproval, and was lying with his hands linked behind his head, and his shirt open at the throat. Violet sat on a floor cushion, looking graceful and cool, and self possessed; and Rudolph Mesurier, who had compromised with the heat by undoing the buttons of his rather too-waisted coat, leaned against the window, blowing smoke rings.
Ten minutes later the door-bell rang, and Antonia said: 'That'll be Giles.'
'Lord I'd forgotten he was coming!' said Kenneth.
Violet reached instinctively for her vanity case, but before she had time to do more than peep at her reflection in the tiny mirror, Murgatroyd had ushered in the visitor.
'Here's Mr Giles!' she announced grimly.
Giles Carrington paused on the threshold, surveying the group in some amusement. 'You look like an illustration of high life and low life,' he remarked. 'Sunbathing, Tony?'
'Come inside, and pour yourself out a drink,' said Kenneth. 'And don't be shy of telling us the worst: it's all in the family. Am I the heir, or am I not? If I am, we're going to buy a refrigerator. There's no ice in this ruddy place.'
Giles paid not the slightest attention to this, but smiled down at Violet. 'It's useless to expect either of my cousins to introduce us. My name is Carrington.'
'I know; they're hopeless. Mine is Williams. I'm Kenneth's fiancée, you know.'
'I didn't, but I congratulate him. Good-evening, Mesurier.'
'Oh, how sweet of you!' Violet said, with an arch look up at him.
'That's only his nice Eton manners,' said Antonia reassuringly. 'When's the Inquest, Giles?'
'On Tuesday. You'll have to attend.'
'Blast! Are you going to be there?'
'Yes, of course. I'll take you down.' Giles poured himself out some whisky, and splashed soda into it.
'You aren't. You can't draw.'
'Thank you, dear. But I do make a living out of it,' said Violet sweetly. 'As a matter of fact I do poster-designs and commercial work, Mr Mesurier. I found I had a sort of knack' - Kenneth sank his head in his hands and groaned - 'a sort of knack,' repeated Violet, 'and I suppose my stuff caught on. I've always had a sense of colour and line, and -'
'Oh, darling, do shut up!' begged Kenneth. 'You've got about as much sense of colour and line as Tony's bull-terriers.'
Violet stiffened. 'I don't know if you're trying to annoy me, but —'
'My angel, I wouldn't annoy you for the world, but if only you'd just be, and not talk!' begged Kenneth.
'I see. I'm to sit mum while you air your views.'
'She can't possibly not talk at all, Kenneth,' said Antonia reasonably. 'What he means is, Don't talk Art.'
'Thank you. I'm quite aware that nobody but Kenneth knows anything about Art.'
'Well, if you're aware of it, why the hell do you -'
'Champagne!' said Rudolph, leaping into the breach. 'Miss Williams, you will, won't you? Tony?'
'Why is there never any ice in this place?' demanded Kenneth, suddenly diverted.
'Because we bought the oak coffer with the money we meant to spend on a refrigerator,' replied Antonia.
This change of topic, coupled with the champagne, saved the party from breaking up there and then. No further references were made to Art, and by the time the quartette rose from the table and drifted over to the other end of the room Violet had softened towards Kenneth, who was passionately anxious to make amends; and Rudolph had volunteered to make Turkish coffee if Murgatroyd didn't mind. He and Antonia went off to the kitchen together, and under Murgatroyd's scornful but indulgent eye brewed a decoction which, though it would have puzzled a Turk, was quite drinkable.
It was a warm evening, and all this exertion made Antonia so hot that she announced her intention of having a bath. She withdrew into the bathroom, reappearing in the studio a quarter of an hour later in beach pyjamas, which became her very well, but offended Murgatroyd, who told her she ought to be ashamed of herself, on a Sunday and all. Kenneth, flat on a divan, had taken off his coat, somewhat to Violet's disapproval, and was lying with his hands linked behind his head, and his shirt open at the throat. Violet sat on a floor cushion, looking graceful and cool, and self possessed; and Rudolph Mesurier, who had compromised with the heat by undoing the buttons of his rather too-waisted coat, leaned against the window, blowing smoke rings.
Ten minutes later the door-bell rang, and Antonia said: 'That'll be Giles.'
'Lord I'd forgotten he was coming!' said Kenneth.
Violet reached instinctively for her vanity case, but before she had time to do more than peep at her reflection in the tiny mirror, Murgatroyd had ushered in the visitor.
'Here's Mr Giles!' she announced grimly.
Giles Carrington paused on the threshold, surveying the group in some amusement. 'You look like an illustration of high life and low life,' he remarked. 'Sunbathing, Tony?'
'Come inside, and pour yourself out a drink,' said Kenneth. 'And don't be shy of telling us the worst: it's all in the family. Am I the heir, or am I not? If I am, we're going to buy a refrigerator. There's no ice in this ruddy place.'
Giles paid not the slightest attention to this, but smiled down at Violet. 'It's useless to expect either of my cousins to introduce us. My name is Carrington.'
'I know; they're hopeless. Mine is Williams. I'm Kenneth's fiancée, you know.'
'I didn't, but I congratulate him. Good-evening, Mesurier.'
'Oh, how sweet of you!' Violet said, with an arch look up at him.
'That's only his nice Eton manners,' said Antonia reassuringly. 'When's the Inquest, Giles?'
'On Tuesday. You'll have to attend.'
'Blast! Are you going to be there?'
'Yes, of course. I'll take you down.' Giles poured himself out some whisky, and splashed soda into it.
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