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- Стр. 31/70
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“
Oh
,
we
all
know
you
haven
’
t
any
principles
,
”
Mrs
.
Armiger
declared
;
and
Alexa
Glennard
,
lifting
an
indolent
smile
,
said
:
“
I
shall
never
write
you
a
love
-
letter
,
Mr
.
Flamel
.
”
Glennard
moved
away
impatiently
.
Such
talk
was
as
tedious
as
the
buzzing
of
gnats
.
He
wondered
why
his
wife
had
wanted
to
drag
him
on
such
a
senseless
expedition
.
.
.
.
He
hated
Flamel
’
s
crowd
—
and
what
business
had
Flamel
himself
to
interfere
in
that
way
,
standing
up
for
the
publication
of
the
letters
as
though
Glennard
needed
his
defence
?
.
.
.
Glennard
turned
his
head
and
saw
that
Flamel
had
drawn
a
seat
to
Alexa
’
s
elbow
and
was
speaking
to
her
in
a
low
tone
.
The
other
groups
had
scattered
,
straying
in
twos
along
the
deck
.
It
came
over
Glennard
that
he
should
never
again
be
able
to
see
Flamel
speaking
to
his
wife
without
the
sense
of
sick
mistrust
that
now
loosened
his
joints
.
.
.
.
Alexa
,
the
next
morning
,
over
their
early
breakfast
,
surprised
her
husband
by
an
unexpected
request
.
“
Will
you
bring
me
those
letters
from
town
?
”
she
asked
.
“
What
letters
?
”
he
said
,
putting
down
his
cup
.
He
felt
himself
as
helplessly
vulnerable
as
a
man
who
is
lunged
at
in
the
dark
.
“
Mrs
.
Aubyn
’
s
.
The
book
they
were
all
talking
about
yesterday
.
”
Glennard
,
carefully
measuring
his
second
cup
of
tea
,
said
,
with
deliberation
,
“
I
didn
’
t
know
you
cared
about
that
sort
of
thing
.
”
She
was
,
in
fact
,
not
a
great
reader
,
and
a
new
book
seldom
reached
her
till
it
was
,
so
to
speak
,
on
the
home
stretch
;
but
she
replied
,
with
a
gentle
tenacity
,
“
I
think
it
would
interest
me
because
I
read
her
life
last
year
.
”
