Changing Winds: A NovelErvine, St. John G. (St. John Greer)
General
Changing Winds: A Novel
Ervine, St. John G. (St. John Greer)
Fiction
"I thought it was you," he said. "I wasn't sure at first, but when you
turned away ... there was something about your back that was familiar
... I knew it was you. _How_ are you? I haven't seen you since you left
Rumpell's, though I've heard of you, of course, and read of you, too!
You've become quite well-known, haven't you?"
Henry smiled feebly, an unfriendly, unresponsive, mirthless smile, as
was his wont when he was in the presence of people whom he disliked.
"I've often wondered about you," Mullally went on, unembarrassed by
Henry's obvious wish to get away from him.
"Oh, yes," Henry replied, saying to himself, "I wish to God my train
would come in!"
"Yes, I've often wondered about you," Mullally went on. "And about
Farlow and Graham and Carey. You were great friends, you four, weren't
you? I'd have called you 'The Heavenly Twins' only there were four of
you, and 'quadruplets' is a difficult word for a nickname, don't you
think? I mean to say 'The Heavenly Quadruplets' doesn't sound nearly so
neat as 'The Heavenly Twins.' It's funnier, of course! What's become of
them all? I saw somewhere that Farlow'd written a play, but I didn't see
it. I've read one or two of your books, by the way. Quite good, I
thought! What did you say'd become of them?"
"Carey's in London ... at the Bar," Henry answered. "I've just been
staying with him. He's married!..."
"Dear me! And has he any ... little ones?"
Oh, that was like Mullally! He would be sure to say "little ones" when
he meant "children."
"He has a daughter!"
"Oh, indeed! He must be very gratified. And Farlow and Graham, how are
they, and what are they doing?"
"Farlow's in Gallipoli and Graham's in France!..."
"Oh, this dreadful war," Mullally exclaimed, wrinkling his features.
"I'm greatly opposed to it. I've been addressing meetings on the
subject!"
"Have you?" Henry asked with more interest than he had previously shown.
"Yes, I'm totally opposed to it. All this secret diplomacy and race for
armaments ... that's at the bottom of it all. My dear Quinn, some
members of the Cabinet have shares in armament works. It's easy enough
to see why we're at war!..."
Henry could not prevent himself from laughing.
"Do you mean to say you think they got up the war on purpose so's to get
bigger dividends on their armament shares?"
Mullally shrugged his shoulders. "I don't wish to impute motives," he
said. "No, I should not care to do that. I believe in the good
intentions of my fellow man, but all the same, it's very peculiar. It
looks bad!..."
"You always were a bloody fool, Mullally, and you're a bloodier one now.
Good afternoon!" said Henry, turning to look at the train which was now
entering the station.
He hurried to secure a carriage, and while he was settling his bag on
the rack, he heard the voice of Mullally bleating in his ear.
"I'm going to Exeter, too," he said. "I'll just get in with you. I have
a third class ticket, but if they ask for the excess, I can pay it!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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