the maltese angel by Yelena Kopylova Read Free Book Online

excitement;
    he was going to meet her .. not as the actress coming out of the stage door, whom he would not really have known how to approach, but he was going to face her in her lodgings.
    For a moment the anticipation and elation were chilled by the
    thought:
    what if he didn't take to her? What if she were a hoity-toity piece and thought too much of herself; or, on the other hand, just plain common; but oh dear! what if she didn't take to him? Yes, that was the main point: what if she didn't take to him?
    "Ah! Here we are. Home from home."
    He was standing in a street where every house appeared to be approached by three steps, guarded on each side by sloping iron railings. They were quite large houses. He wouldn't say this was the best end of the city, but it was no cheap street.
    The front door to the house looked heavy and strong and was graced with a brass letter-box and door knob, and when it was opened, the woman sailed in; and the man pressed Ward forward. And now he was being
    introduced to a woman who was apparently the owner of the house, for Mrs. Killjoy was saying, "This is a friend of ours, Connie. We have met him by chance this evening." She turned towards Ward now, saying,
    "Mr. Hayward Gibson." Then extending her hand to the flat bosomed middle-aged woman, she added, "Mrs. Borman, our landlady and the kindest you will find in a day's walk." And now, with fingers wagging, she exclaimed, "And I mean that, Connie. You know I mean that."
    Mrs. Borman did not spread her gaze over his entire body as Mrs.
    Killjoy had done; but she looked him straight in the face and in a pleasant voice said, "Good evening, Mr. Gibson. Any friend of Mrs.
    Killjoy is welcome to my house."
    Nodding and smiling, Mrs. Killjoy put down her small charges, as did her husband, and informed the landlady in the most polite terms, "They have already done their number ones and twos, and Ken will give them their dinner as usual and put them to bed ... Go along, my darlings.
    Go along with your papa. "
    During this little scene Ward had been standing apart, holding his wide-brimmed hat level so that the rain wouldn't drip on to the
    polished linoleum of the hall floor, and not really believing what he was hearing and witnessing. It was as if he himself had been lifted on to a stage and was taking part in a play;
    and then more so when Mrs. Killjoy asked in her assumed refined tone,
    "And how is our patient faring? Has she behaved herself?"
    "Yes," replied Mrs. Borman; "I would say she has, as always, behaved herself. She is now in the parlour."
    "Oh, she has managed to get there! That is wonderful. And it has eased what might have been an embarrassing question, which I would have had to phrase very diplomatically in asking if our friend here would have been allowed to visit her privately. Oh, the parlour is very
    suitable.
    Would you come this way? " She inclined a hand towards Ward.
    "But, ah' she stopped again 'before doing so, let me divest you of your coat and take that hat."
    He had to close his eyes for a moment whilst being divested of his coat. But then he was following Mrs. Killjoy, a person, he
    considered, most definitely misnamed, into a room that seemed to be furnished entirely with chairs of all shapes and sizes, and there, sitting on one to the side of the fireplace, was a slim young girl.
    As he walked slowly towards her, Mrs. Killjoy was exclaiming loudly,
    "I've brought a gentleman to see you, dear. He was so disappointed that you weren't on stage tonight. He was enquiring of your health. He is a Mr. Hay ward Gibson." She split the name.
    "He is from the country ... How is your ankle, dear?"
    As the girl answered, "Much better, thank you," she did not look at Mrs. Killjoy, but at the tall man staring down at her, and she was recognising him, much more than at the moment he was recognising her, because he was looking down on a girl he imagined to be not more than sixteen, with her abundant brown hair lying in a loose bun at the