anner.themummy-第8节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


the　death　of　Lawrence　Stratford　had　taken　place？　Henry　fought　his　way　through　customs　in　silence；　ignoring　the　noisy；　smoky　flashes　of　the　cameras。　With　icy　impatience　he　glared　at　the　officials；　who　checked　his　few　suitcases　and　then　waved　him　past。
　
　His　heart　thudded　in　his　ears。　He　wanted　a　drink。　He　wanted　the　quiet　of　his　own　home　in　Mayfair。　He　wanted　his　mistress；　Daisy　Banker。　He　wanted　anything　but　the　dreary　ride　with　his　father。　He　avoided　Randolph's　eyes　altogether　as　he　climbed　into　the　back　of　the　Rolls。
　
　As　the　long　cumbersome　saloon　forced　its　way　out　of　the　thick　traffic；　he　caught　a　glimpse　of　Samir　Ibrahaim　greeting　a　group　of　black…dressed　men…undoubtedly　busybodies　from　the　museum。　What　a　fortunate　thing　that　this　corpse　of　Ramses　the　Great　concerned　everyone　far　more　than　the　corpse　of　Lawrence　Stratford；　which　had　been　buried　without　ceremony　in　Egypt；　just　as　Lawrence　had　wished。
　
　Good　Lord；　his　father　looked　dreadful；　as　if　he'd　aged　overnight　some　ten　years。　He　was　even　a　little　disheveled。
　
　〃Do　y〃　u　have　a　cigarette？〃　　Henry　asked　sharply。
　
　Without　looking　at　him　his　father　produced　a　small　thin　cigar　and　a　light。
　
　〃The　marriage　is　still　the　essential　thing；〃　　Randolph　murmured　almost　as　if　he　were　speaking　to　himself。〃　A　new　bride　simply　doesn't　have　time　to　think　about　business。　And　for　the　time　being；　I've　arranged　for　you　to　stay　with　her。　She　cannot　remain　alone。〃
　
　〃Good　Lord；　Father；　this　is　the　twentieth　century！　Why　the　hell　can't　she　remain　alone！〃　 '
　
　Stay　in　that　house；　and　with　that　disgusting　mummy　on　display　in　the　library？　It　sickened　him。　He　closed　his　eyes；　savored　the　cigar　silently；　and　thought　of　his　mistress。　A　series　of　sharp；　erotic　images　passed　quickly　through　his　mind。
　
　〃Damn　it；　you　do　what　I　tell　you；〃　　his　father　said。　But　the　voice　lacked　conviction。　Randolph　gazed　out　the　window。〃　You'll　stay　there　and　keep　an　eye　on　her　and　do　what　you　can　to　see　she　consents　to　the　marriage　as　quickly　as　possible。　Do　your　best　to　see　that　she　doesn't　move　away　from　Alex。　I　think　Alex　has　begun　to　irritate　her　slightly。〃
　
　〃Small　wonder。　If　Alex　had　any　gumption　。。。〃
　
　〃The　marriage　is　good　for　her。　It's　good　for　everyone。〃
　
　〃All　right；　all　right；　let's　drop　it！〃
　
　Silence　as　the　car　moved　on。　There　was　time　for　dinner　with　Daisy；　and　a　long　rest　at　the　flat　before　he　hit　the　gambling　tables　at　Flint's；　that　is；　if　he　could　force　a　little　immediate　cash　out　of　his　father。。。
　
　〃He　didn't　suffer；　did　he？〃
　
　Henry　gave　a　little　start。
　
　〃What？　What　are　you　talking　about？〃
　
　〃Your　uncle？〃　　his　father　asked；　turning　to　him　for　the　first　time。〃　The　late　Lawrence　Stratford；　who　has　just　died　in　Egypt？　Did　he　suffer；　for　the　love　of　God；　or　did　he　go　quietly？〃
　
　〃One　minute　he　was　fine；　the　next　he　was　lying　on　the　floor。　He　was　gone　within　seconds。　Why　do　you　ask　about　something　like　that？〃
　
　〃You're　such　a　sentimental　young　bastard；　aren't　you？〃
　
　〃I　couldn't　prevent　it！〃
　
　For　one　moment；　the　atmosphere　of　that　close　little　cell　came　back　to　him；　the　acrid　smell　of　the　poison。　And　that　thing；　that　thing　in　the　mummy　case；　and　the　grim　illusion　that　it　had　been　watching。
　
　〃He　was　a　pigheaded　old　fool；〃　　Randolph　said　almost　in　a　whisper。〃　But　I　loved　him。〃
　
　〃Did　you　really？〃　　Henry　turned　sharply　and　peered　into　his　father's　face。〃　He's　left　everything　to　her；　and　you　loved　him！〃
　
　〃He　settled　plenty　on　both　of　us　a　long　time　ago。　It　ought　to　have　been　enough；　more　than　enough…〃
　
　〃It's　a　pittance　pared　to　what　she's　inherited！〃
　
　〃I　won't　discuss　this。〃
　
　Patience；　Henry　thought。　Patience。　He　sat　back　against　the　soft　grey　upholstery。　I　need　a　hundred　pounds　at　least　and　I　won't　get　it　like　this。
　
　Daisy　Banker　watched　through　the　lace　curtains　as　Henry　stepped　out　of　the　cab　below。　She　lived　in　a　long　flat　above　the　music　hail；　where　she　sang　every　night　from　ten　P。M。　until　two　in　the　morning；　a　soft　ripe　peach　of　a　woman　with　big　drowsy　blue　eyes　and　silver　blond　hair。　Her　voice　was　nothing　much　and　she　knew　it；　but　they　liked　her；　they　did。　They　liked　her　very　much。
　
　And　she　liked　Henry　Stratford；　or　so　she　told　herself。　He　was　certainly　the　best　thing　that　had　ever　happened　to　her。　He'd　got　her　the　job　below；　though　how　she　could　never　quite　work　out；　and　he　paid　for　the　flat；　oral　least　he　was　supposed　to。　She　knew　there　was　quite　a　bit　owing；　but　then　he　was　just　back　from　Egypt。　He'd　make　it　right　or　shut　up　anyone　who　questioned　him　about　it。　He　was　very　good　at　doing　that。
　
　She　ran　to　the　mirror　as　she　heard　his　tread　on　the　stairs。　She　pulled　down　the　feathered　collar　of　her　peignoir　and　straightened　the　pearls　at　her　throat。　She　pinched　her　cheeks　to　work　up　the　blush　just　as　his　key　turned　in　the　lock。
　
　〃Well；　I'd　just　about　given　up　on　you；　I　had！〃　　she　bawled　as　he　came　into　the　room。　But　oh；　the　sight　of　him。　It　never　failed　to　work　on　her。　He　was　so　very　handsome　with　his　dark　brown　hair　and　eyes；　and　the　way　he　conducted　himself；　so　truly　the　gentleman。　She　loved　the　way　he　removed　his　cloak　now　and　threw　it　carelessly　over　the　chair；　and　beckoned　for　her　to　e　into　his　arms。　So　lazy　he　was；　and　so　full　of　himself！　But　why　shouldn't　he　be？
　
　〃And　my　motor　car？　You　promised　me　a　motor　car　of　my　own　before　you　left。　Where　is　it！　That　wasn't　it　downstairs。　That　was　a　cab。〃
　
　There　was　something　so　cold　in　his　smile。　When　he　kissed　her；　his　lips　hurt　her　a　little；　and　his　fingers　bit　into　the　soft　flesh　of　her　upper　arms。　She　felt　a　vague　chill　move　up　her　spine；　her　mouth　tingled。　She　kissed　him　again　and　when　he　led　her　into　the　bedroom　she　didn't　say　a　word。
　
　〃I'll　get　you　your　motor　car；〃　　he　whispered　into　her　ear　as　he　tore　off　the　peignoir　and　pressed　her　against　him　so　that　her　nipples　touched　the　scratchy　surface　of　his　starched　shirt。　She　kissed　his　cheek；　then　his　chin；　licking　the　faint　stubble　of　his　beard。　Lovely　to　feel　him　breathe　this　way；　to　feel　his　hands　on　her　shoulders。
　
　〃Not　too　rough；　sir；〃　　she　whispered。
　
　〃Why　not？〃
　
　The　telephone　rang。　She　could　have　ripped　it　from　the　wall。
　
　She　unbuttoned　his　shirt　for　him　as　he　answered。
　
　〃I　told　you　not　to　call　again；　Sharpies。〃
　
　Oh；　that　bloody　son　of　a　bitch；　she　thought　miserably。　She　wished　he　was　dead。　She'd　worked　for　Sharpies　before　Henry　Stratford　had　rescued　her。　And　Sharpies　was　a　mean　one；　plain　and　simple。　He　had　left　his　scar　on　her；　a　tiny　half…moon　on　the　back　of　her　neck。
　
　〃I　told　you　I'd　pay　you　when　I　got　back；　didn't　I？　Suppose　you　give　me　time　to　unpack　my　trunk！〃　　He　jammed　down　the　little　cone　of　a　receiver　into　the　hook。　She　pushed　the　phone　back　out　of　the　way　on　the　marble…top　table。
　
　〃e　here　to　me；　sweetheart；〃　　she　said　as　she　sat　on　the　bed。
　
　But　her　eyes　dulled　slightly　as　she　watched　him　staring　at　the　telephone。　He　was　broke　still；　wasn't　he？　Stone　broke。
　
　Strange。　There　had　been　no　wake　in　this　house　for　her　father。　And　now　the　painted　coffin　of　Ramses　the　Great　was　being　carried　carefully　through　the　double　drawing　rooms　as　if　by　pallbearers；　and　into　the　library；　which　he　had　always　called　the　Egyptian　room。　A　wake　for　the　mummy；　and　the　chief　mourner　was　not　here。
　
　Julie　watched　as　Samir　directed　the　men　from　the　museum　to
　
　place　the　coffin　carefully　upright　in　the　southeast　corner；　to　the　left　of　the　open　conservatory　doors。　A　perfect　position。　Anyone　entering　the　house　could　see　it　immediately。　All　those　in　the　drawing　rooms　would　have　a　good　view　of　it；　and　the　mummy　himself　would　appear　to　have　a　view　of　all　assembled　to　pay　him　homage　when　the　lid　was　lifted　and　the　body　itself　was　revealed。　The　scrolls　and　alabaster　jars　would　be　arranged　on　the　long　marble　table　beneath　the　mirror　to　the　left　of　the　upright　coffin；　along　the　east　wall。　The　bust　of　Cleopatra　was　already　being　placed　on　a　stand　in　the　centre　of　the　room。　The　gold　coins　would　go　in　a　special　display　case　beside　the　marble　table。　And　other　miscellaneous　treasures　could　now　be　arranged　any　way　that　Samir　saw　fit。
　
　The　soft　afternoon　sunlight　poured　in　from　the　conservatory；　throwing　its　intricate　dancing　patterns　over　the　golden　mask　of　the　King's　face　and　his　folded　arms。
　
　Gorgeous　it　was；　authentic　obviously。　Only　a　fool　would　question　such　a　treasure。　But　what　did　the　whole　story　mean？
　
　Oh；　if　only　they　were　all　gone；　Julie　thought；　and　she　could　be　alone　now　to　study　it。　But　the　men　would　be　here　forever　examining　the　exhibit。　And　Alex；　what　to　do　about　Alex；　who　stood　beside　her；　and　gave　her　not　a　moment　to　herself？
　
　Of　course　she'd　been　glad　to　see　Samir；　though　it　had　stirred　her　own　pain　to　see　the　pain　in　him。
　
　And　he　looked　stiff　and　unfortable　in　his　black　Western　suit　and　starched　white　shirt。　In　the　silks　of　his　native　dress；　he　was　a　dark…eyed　prince；　quite　removed　from　the　dreary　routines　of　this　noisy　century　and　its　bludgeoning　drive　to　progress。　Here　he　looked　foreign；　and　almost　servile　in　spite　of　the　imperious　manner　in　which　he　ordered　the　workmen　about。
　
　Alex　stared　at　the　workmen　and　their　relics　with　the　stran