"Mortimer, John - Rumpole A La Carte" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mortimer John)

That's his great talent!' When the husband and wife team came off the floor, perspiring gently after the tango, Howard Swainton repeated, 'We were saying you dance unusually well, Britwell, for a vicar.' 'Don't forget I wasn't always a vicar. I spent most of my life in insurance.' 'Oh, yes. I remember now. You told us that.' Howard Swainton seemed to be making a mental note.

Hilda said, 'Do men in insurance dance well?' 'Better than vicars!' Mrs Britwell was laughing. The elderly newly-weds did seem an ideally happy couple.

'I was in insurance and Mavis ran a secretarial agency.' Bill was telling the story of his life. 'Of course, I married her for "er money.' He raised his glass of wine to his wife and drank "er health.

And I married him for his dancing!' Mavis was still 133 laughing. 'Why don't you let Bill give you a slow foxtrot, Mrs Rumpole?' 'Oh, that would be very nice', Hilda had not had a great deal of practice at the foxtrot, 'but not this evening, perhaps.' She was looking anxiously about the room, a fact which the sleuth Swainton immediately noticed. 'Are you looking for someone?' he asked.

'Oh. Oh, well. A judge, actually. I happen to have met him before. I'm sure he was at the Captain's cocktail party but I don't seem to see him here.' 'A judge?' Swainton was interested.

'Oh, yes. He used to be just down the Bailey, you know,' Hilda told them. 'But now he's been put up to the High Court.

Scarlet and ermine. A red judge. Sir Gerald Graves.' 'Graves?' Howard Swainton was smiling. 'That's a rather mournful name.' But the Reverend Bill didn't join in the laughter. He made a sudden movement and knocked over his glass of red wine. It spread across the tablecloth, Hilda told me, in words I was to remember, like blood.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze On me alone it blew.

It blew on me alone because I was taking a solitary stroll in the early morning before the waking hour of the most energetic judge. The good ship Boadicea clove the grey waters, seagulls chattered and soared in the sky behind us, hoping for scraps, and I trod carefully in the shadows of boats and deck buildings.

Like one, who on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on,. And turns no more his head, Because he knows, a frightful judge Doth close behind him tread.

Coleridge's memorable lines were sounding in my ears as I i34 ,.:, looked fearfully around me and then, almost too late, spotted an energetic old party in a blue blazer out for a constitutional.

I ducked into the doorway of the Ladies Health and Beauty Salon, while Graves stopped and peered furtively into the window of the room where breakfast was being served to the Ducal passengers.

I know that he did this from the account that Hilda gave me later. She was at a table with Swainton and Linda Milsom, getting stuck into the coffee and eggs and bacon, when she saw the judicial features peering in at her. She only had time to say, 'Ah. There he is!' before the old darling vanished, and she said, 'He's gone!' Bill Britwell joined them with a plate of cornflakes he'd been fetching from a central table. 'Who's gone?' he asked.

'Mr Justice Graves. He must be an early bird.' The Reverend Bill sat and ate his breakfast and Swainton asked how Mavis, who was noticeably absent, was that morning.

'Well, not too good, I'm afraid. Mavis isn't quite the ticket.' 'The what?' Linda Milsom seemed to be listening to a foreign language.

'Not quite up to snuff.' Bill did his best to explain his meaning.

'He means she's sick,' Howard Swainton translated for Linda's benefit and his secretary looked deeply sympathetic.

'What, on her honeymoon?' 'Do tell her we're all so sorry for her.' Swainton was also solicitous, and then he turned his attention to Hilda and asked her, with obvious scepticism, 'And how's your husband, Mrs Rumpole? Have you heard from him lately?' 'Oh, yes, I have,' Hilda told him.

'Still busy, is he?' 'Well, he's on the move all the time.' Gee, I hope your wife gets better,' Linda was saying to Bill Britwell in a caring sort of way. 'I've got these great homoeopathic capsules. I could drop them into your cabin.' 'That's very kind of you but,' Bill told her firmly, 'I think e'd like to be left alone for the moment.' Such a terrible shame!' Hilda was also sympathetic. 'And she kerned so full of life last night.' 135 laughing. 'Why don't you let Bill give you a slow foxtrot, Mrs Rumpole?' 'Oh, that would be very nice', Hilda had not had a great deal of practice at tlhe foxtrot, 'but not this evening, perhaps.' She was looking anxiously about the room, a fact which the sleuth Swainton innmediately noticed. 'Are you looking for someone?' he asked.

'Oh. Oh, well. A judge, actually. I happen to have met him before. I'm sure he was at the Captain's cocktail party but I don't seem to see hiimhere.' 'A judge?' Swainrton was interested.

'Oh, yes. He used to be just down the Bailey, you know,' Hilda told them. 'B-utnow he's been put up to the High Court.

Scarlet and ermine. A red judge. Sir Gerald Graves.' 'Graves?' Howard Swainton was smiling. 'That's a rather mournful name.' But the Reverend Bill didn't join in the laughter. He made a sudden movement and knocked over his glass of red wine. It spread across the tablecloth, Hilda told me, in words I was to remember, like blood.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, 'Yet shie sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze On me alone it blew.

It blew on me alone because I was taking a solitary stroll in the early morning before the waking hour of the most energetic judge. The good ship Boadicea clove the grey waters, seagulls chattered and soared in the sky behind us, hoping for scraps, and I trod carefully in the shadows of boats and deck buildings.

Like one,, who on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And liaviixg once turned round walks on, " And turns no more his head; Because he knows, a frightful judge Dothcl░se behind him tread.