Dangerous Inheritance by Dennis Wheatley Read Free Book Online Page B

when invited to join a group of any kind to, as they say, pay one’s footing?’
    Truss was furious, but Fleur thought it most amusing that he had been outwitted into accepting their coloured companion’s hospitality and put in a position where Douglas, as she now called him, could reasonably expect to be asked to accompany them when next they went dancing.
    Their good nights when they got back to the villa were formal; but half an hour later, still angry and determined to have the matter out with Fleur, in dressing gown and slippers Truss tiptoed along to her room. To his surprise and annoyance he found her door locked. Gently he tapped on it, but there was no reply. Several times he tapped again, but he dared not knock louder and there was still no response; so having hung about for ten frustrated minutes he made his way disconsolately back to his own room.
    Next morning he tried, but without success, to get Fleur on her own. Then, after lunch, as it was Sunday, they all went to the little township of Gastouri, which was only a mile away, to see the dancing.
    Partly from ancient custom, and partly now as a tourist attraction, the peasants still performed their national dances in the main street. The women wore bodices with full white sleeves under jackets of richly coloured velvet encrusted with gold embroidery. Their hair was most elaborately dressed over a double pair of semi-circular pads, decked with many goldornaments and framed behind by an oblong of stiff, beautifully worked muslin. They danced sedately in a slow-moving, outward-facing circle, while the men, more soberly clad, leapt and gyrated with extraordinary vigour inside it.
    As the Corfiote peasantry were still deeply religious, with few exceptions they attended the services held by their bearded, black-robed priests in the little white churches, each with its separate square belfry tower, on Sunday mornings; but after their midday meal they started to dance and continued, apparently indefatigable, till well into the evening.
    Leaving them still hard at it, the party returned to the villa; then Truss and Fleur, accompanied by Douglas Rajapakse, went down to bathe. The hour they spent disporting themselves on the rocks and in the sea added fuel to Truss’s anger, for Douglas proved to be an excellent swimmer; and while his lithe brown body streaked far out to lie floating near Fleur’s pink one for what seemed to Truss an endless time, he was compelled to remain splashing about in the shallows on the submerged rock shelf.
    It was not until after dinner, when the Duke took Rajapakse to his library to talk to him again about the inheritance, that Truss at last succeeded in getting Fleur to himself. As soon as they were alone, he asked:
    â€˜Why did you lock me out last night?’
    â€˜To teach you manners,’ she replied promptly.
    â€˜Thanks; but I was taught those by my family.’
    â€˜Then they must be jolly disappointed with you as a pupil. Douglas couldn’t have behaved better if he had gone to Eton, whereas you acted as though you’d been brought up in a slum. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’
    â€˜Now listen, honey,’ Truss said earnestly. ‘I know you’re full of advanced ideas, and I sympathise with most of them. After all, the Rights of Man has been our Bible in the States for generations. Who’s rooted for equality and all it stands for, all these years, if not Uncle Sam? And look at the billions we hand out to help underprivileged peoples get themselves a better life. But this colour question is a thing apart. In the deep South, where I come from, it’s become a real menace.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Because whites and niggers just don’t mix. That’s why. They’re a different species, and no happiness comes out of mixed marriages. That’s not a theory. It’s hard experience.’
    â€˜Who’s talking about marriage, anyway?’
    â€˜That’s