The Acceptance World - Anthony Powell [85]
The night was a shade cooler now. Jean was wearing a white blouse, or sports shirt, open at the neck. Beneath it, her body trembled a little.
‘What was your dinner like?’ she asked.
‘Peter turned up.’
‘He said he would probably go there.’
I told her about Le Bas; and also about Stringham.
‘That is why I am a bit late.’
‘Did Peter mention that Bob is back in England?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that his prospects are not too bad?’
‘Yes.’
‘That may make difficulties.’
‘I know.’
‘Don’t let’s talk of them.’
‘No.’
‘Darling Nick.’
Outside, a clock struck the hour. Though ominous, things still had their enchantment. After all, as St. John Clarke was reported to have said at the Huntercombes’, ‘All blessings are mixed blessings.’ Perhaps, in spite of everything, the couple of the postcard could not be dismissed so easily. It was in their world that I seemed now to find myself.