Great Britain -- Politics and government -- 20th century -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Politicians -- Fiction
She gave him a whimsically humorous look. "It's really time somebody
told you," she said; "and as I feel rather responsible for you, after my
letter to Mr. Jack Rock, I expect I'm the proper person to do it. If
you're not told, you may go about doing a lot of mischief without
knowing anything about it. Prepare for a surprise. You're attractive!
Yes, you are. You're attractive to women, moreover. People don't do
things for you out of mere kindness, as they might be kind to a little
boy in the street or to a lost dog. They do them because you're
attractive, because it gives them pleasure to please you. That sort of
thing will go on happening to you; very likely it'll help you a good
deal." She nodded at him wisely, then broke suddenly into her gurgle.
"Oh, dear me, you do look so much astonished, and if you only knew how
red you've got!"
"Oh, I feel the redness all right; I know that's there," muttered Andy,
whose confusion was indeed lamentable. "But when a--a person like you
says that sort of thing to me--"
"A person, like me?" She lifted her brows. "What am I? I'm the fashion
for three or four seasons--that's what I am. Nobody knows where I come
from; nobody knows where I'm going to; and nobody cares. I don't know
myself, and I'm not sure I care. My small opinion doesn't count for
much. Only, in this case, it happens to be true."
"Where do you come from?" asked Andy, in a sudden impulse of great
friendliness.
She looked him straight in the face. "Nobody knows. Nobody must ask."
"I've got no people belonging to me either. Even Jack Rock's no
relation--or only a 'step.'"
Her eyes grew a little clouded. "You mustn't make me silly. Only we're
friends now, aren't we? We don't do what we can for one another out of
kindness, but for love?" She daintily blew him a kiss, and smiled again.
"And because we're both very attractive--aren't we?"
"Oh, I'll accept the word if I'm promoted to share it with you. But I
can't say I've got over the surprise yet."
"You've stopped blushing, anyhow. That's something. Good-bye. I shall
see you at lunch, I expect, to-morrow."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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