was reading Kingsley, he said, and squeezed air with his hands. He described the book, but it was nothing like any Kingsley I had ever read. He said, 'It has, don't you agree, just the right tone, an elasticity one associates with fiction -' I nodded and tried to add something of my own, but could not get a word in.
At this point, Virginia Byward, the novelist and traveler, ambled over and said hello.
'This is Mister Insole. He's a writer,' said Sir Charles. 'We've just been talking about Kinglake.'
Kinglake, not Kingsley. I was glad I had not said anything.
'Eothen? That Kinglake?' said Miss Byward.
'The Invasion of the Crimea. That Kinglake,' said Sir Charles.
'Well, I'll let you two get on with it,' said Miss Byward, laughing at her mistake. 'Very nice to have met you, Mister Insole.'
'She's so sweet,' said Sir Charles. 'And her reportage is devastating.' He clawed at his cuff. 'Bother. It's gone eight. I must rush -dinner engagement.'
'I'll be late for mine, as well,' I said. 'My hostess will tear a strip off me.' But I was not going anywhere.
'Such a bore, isn't it?' he said. 'We are both being called away. So unfortunate. I would much rather stand and chat about the Crimean War.'
'So would I!' I said. Then, I could think of nothing else to say, so I said, 'I am one of your most passionate fans.'
This was my leap in the dark. I had never read a word he had written. I suppose I looked terrified, but you would not have known it from the look on Sir Charles's face - pure joy. He removed his pipe from his mouth and stuffed his finger in the bowl.
WORLD S END
'I'm so glad.'
'I'm not joking,' I said. 'I find your work a real consolation. It genuinely engages me.'
'It is awfully good of you to say so.'
He sounded as if he meant it. More than that, he reacted as if no one had ever said these words to him before.
'We must meet for lunch one day.' He clenched the pipe stem in his teeth and beamed.
I said, 'How about dinner at my place? When you're free.' And Sir Charles Moonman, the eminent novelist and critic, said
to me, 'I am free most evenings.'
'Next week?'
'I can do Monday, or Tuesday, or-'
'Monday,' I said. I gave him my address and that was that. He clapped me on the shoulder in his bluff country doctor way, and I was still somewhat dazed when Ronald came over.
'What are you grinning about?'
'I've just invited Sir Charles Moonman for dinner.'
Ronald was horrified. 'You can't,' he said. 'I'll phone him in the morning and tell him it's off.'
'You'll do no such thing,' I said, raising my voice to a pitch that had Ronald shushing me and steering me to a corner.
'What are you going to give him?'
He had me there. I do a nice shepherd's pie, and Ronald had often praised my flan, but truly I had not given the menu much thought, and told him so.
'Shepherd's pie!' Ronald was saying as Virginia Byward sidled up to me.
'Hello, Mister Insole,' she said. She had remembered my name! 'Has Charles gone?'
Ronald was speechless.
'Charles had to be off,' I said. 'A dinner party - he was rather dreading it.'
Miss Byward was staring at Ronald.
I I know Mister Insole is a writer,' she said. 'But what do you do?' Ronald turned purple. He said, 'I sell worthless books/ and
marched away.
k I hope I didn't say anything to offend him/ said Miss Byward. 'Too bad about Charles. 1 was hoping he'd still be here. I meant to lock horns with him. 1
ALGEBRA
'If you're free on Monday, come along for dinner. Charles will be there.'
'I couldn't crash your dinner party.'
'Be my guest,' I said. 'It won't be fancy, but I think of myself as a good plain cook.'
'If you're sure it's no trouble-'
'I'd be honored,' I said, and then I could think of nothing to say except, 'I am one of your most passionate fans,' the statement that had gone down so well with Sir Charles. I was a bit embarrassed about saying it, because repeating it made it sound formulated and insincere. But it was my embarrassment that brought it off.
'Are
At this point, Virginia Byward, the novelist and traveler, ambled over and said hello.
'This is Mister Insole. He's a writer,' said Sir Charles. 'We've just been talking about Kinglake.'
Kinglake, not Kingsley. I was glad I had not said anything.
'Eothen? That Kinglake?' said Miss Byward.
'The Invasion of the Crimea. That Kinglake,' said Sir Charles.
'Well, I'll let you two get on with it,' said Miss Byward, laughing at her mistake. 'Very nice to have met you, Mister Insole.'
'She's so sweet,' said Sir Charles. 'And her reportage is devastating.' He clawed at his cuff. 'Bother. It's gone eight. I must rush -dinner engagement.'
'I'll be late for mine, as well,' I said. 'My hostess will tear a strip off me.' But I was not going anywhere.
'Such a bore, isn't it?' he said. 'We are both being called away. So unfortunate. I would much rather stand and chat about the Crimean War.'
'So would I!' I said. Then, I could think of nothing else to say, so I said, 'I am one of your most passionate fans.'
This was my leap in the dark. I had never read a word he had written. I suppose I looked terrified, but you would not have known it from the look on Sir Charles's face - pure joy. He removed his pipe from his mouth and stuffed his finger in the bowl.
WORLD S END
'I'm so glad.'
'I'm not joking,' I said. 'I find your work a real consolation. It genuinely engages me.'
'It is awfully good of you to say so.'
He sounded as if he meant it. More than that, he reacted as if no one had ever said these words to him before.
'We must meet for lunch one day.' He clenched the pipe stem in his teeth and beamed.
I said, 'How about dinner at my place? When you're free.' And Sir Charles Moonman, the eminent novelist and critic, said
to me, 'I am free most evenings.'
'Next week?'
'I can do Monday, or Tuesday, or-'
'Monday,' I said. I gave him my address and that was that. He clapped me on the shoulder in his bluff country doctor way, and I was still somewhat dazed when Ronald came over.
'What are you grinning about?'
'I've just invited Sir Charles Moonman for dinner.'
Ronald was horrified. 'You can't,' he said. 'I'll phone him in the morning and tell him it's off.'
'You'll do no such thing,' I said, raising my voice to a pitch that had Ronald shushing me and steering me to a corner.
'What are you going to give him?'
He had me there. I do a nice shepherd's pie, and Ronald had often praised my flan, but truly I had not given the menu much thought, and told him so.
'Shepherd's pie!' Ronald was saying as Virginia Byward sidled up to me.
'Hello, Mister Insole,' she said. She had remembered my name! 'Has Charles gone?'
Ronald was speechless.
'Charles had to be off,' I said. 'A dinner party - he was rather dreading it.'
Miss Byward was staring at Ronald.
I I know Mister Insole is a writer,' she said. 'But what do you do?' Ronald turned purple. He said, 'I sell worthless books/ and
marched away.
k I hope I didn't say anything to offend him/ said Miss Byward. 'Too bad about Charles. 1 was hoping he'd still be here. I meant to lock horns with him. 1
ALGEBRA
'If you're free on Monday, come along for dinner. Charles will be there.'
'I couldn't crash your dinner party.'
'Be my guest,' I said. 'It won't be fancy, but I think of myself as a good plain cook.'
'If you're sure it's no trouble-'
'I'd be honored,' I said, and then I could think of nothing to say except, 'I am one of your most passionate fans,' the statement that had gone down so well with Sir Charles. I was a bit embarrassed about saying it, because repeating it made it sound formulated and insincere. But it was my embarrassment that brought it off.
'Are
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