Rodney was twice as fond of her as he was of Harriet, just as she was
twice as fond of him as Harriet was. And yet, again and again, where her
own love and sympathy had failed dismally to effect anything, Harriet's
dry astringent cynicism would come along and produce highly desirable
results.
"It seems as if it oughtn't to work out that way," she concluded. "You'd
think that loving a person and feeling his troubles the way he feels
them himself, ought to enable you to help him rather than just irritate.
However, as long as it doesn't work that way with you ..."
He reached out, took her by the chin, tilted her face back and kissed
her expertly on the mouth. A rather horrifyingly familiar thing to do,
one might think, to the Venus of Milo, or Frederica, or any one as
simply and grandly beautiful as that. But she seemed to like it.
"No chance for the experiment," said Martin. "I shall never have any
troubles while you're around."
CHAPTER XIV
THE MIRY WAY
Rodney's docility didn't go to the length of the dose of veronal Harriet
had recommended, but it did assent to a program that occupied the
greater part of the day, including a Turkish bath, a good sleep, fresh
clothes and the first decently cooked meal he had had since he'd dined
at the club three days ago.
Pages:
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704