He managed it so that the
conversation was carried on almost entirely by the two men. Now and
then the three palpably unwilling guests were drawn into it, but with
such subtlety on the part of their host that they were surprised into
a momentarily active participation. Thomas Braddock, cleanly shaven
and rather uncomfortably neat as to the matter of linen, was garrulous
to the point of noisiness. He confined his remarks to the Colonel, or,
in a general way, to the tables near by, with an occasional furtive
glance at his wife's set, unsmiling face by way of noting the effect
on her. The topics were commonplace enough: the weather, the prospects
ahead, the improvements to be made in the show as business got better.
Mrs. Braddock, who sat at the Colonel's left, was so noticeably pale
and repressed that David wondered if she would be able to go to the
end of the wretched travesty without fainting. Unutterable despair
hung over her lowered eyelids; it stood out plainly in the lines at
the corners of her mouth. Christine seldom looked up from her plate.
She sat next to David. He felt the restraint and embarrassment under
which the girl suffered.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226