"Phyllis_A._Whitney_-_Feather_On_The_Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Whitney Phyllis A)

"Can you stop smoking just like that?" I asked idly.
"I usually do what I set out to do. So I've stopped-as of now. We can't have you sneezing like that."
He was much too readily personal. Once more he'd managed to disturb me, and as usual my face gave me away.
"Of course Mrs. Aries would approve if you got up and went straight back to the house," he said.
"I'm not Mrs. Aries. I came down here to enjoy the garden, and that's what I'd like to do."
It was a clear invitation for him to leave, but he continued to stand beside the bench, looking down at me. When he spoke again he seemed unexpectedly kind.
"Things aren't going very well for you up at the house, are they?"
"I don't know what you mean," I told him stiffly.
"And besides, it's none of my business, is it? I suppose I just enjoy watching the resident comedy wherever I take on a job."
I didn't believe him. There was something more here, something that ran deep behind the "character" he'd adopted. I had a curious sense of quagmire under my feet. Better not to answer, not to get caught up in this fiction he was playing out-whatever it was.
He stepped over to a patch of sunlight and stretched luxuriously, reaching toward the sky with long arms. I watched him, listening to the light dripping all around me-moisture not yet sucked up by the sun. When he turned back he smiled at me easily, naturally.
"I'm sorry that I've upset you. I didn't mean to. Whatever it is that brought you here, the answers haven't been happy for you, have they?"
This was more perceptive than I liked to admit. He could be appealing when he chose, and I wanted none of that.
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"Why did you use the word 'comedy'?" I asked. "Why should you think whatever's happening at Radburn House is funny? So far, I haven't found anything up there to make me laugh."
He came to stand again before my bench, looking down at me a little too intently for my comfort. "As a matter of fact, I expect what may be happening is a lot closer to tragedy. So maybe it's safer to laugh and not get involved."
"Why should you be involved at all? Are the dark glasses and the mustache some sort of disguise?"
His laugh was unamused. "Let's just say I can disappear behind them more easily."
Whatever intrigue he was engaged with had nothing to do with me. I didn't like his abundant male arrogance, and I didn't trust the faint stirring in me of something that had been asleep for a long time-a purely female response that I wouldn't accept in myself. Not with a man like this! I had always liked gentle men. Larry had been a dreamer, with his eyes on mountaintops, and I'd loved him very much. With Debbie's loss, there seemed no comfort for me anywhere, and I'd kept my relationships with men friends casual. Only through my work could I really deaden pain. So in a moment I would return to the house-get safely away. The very fact that I could think of leaving in terms of safety was a warning. But I wouldn't run precipitately and have him laugh to himself.
"What I'm more curious about right now is you," he went on. "The mysterious guest who appears suddenly, when Mrs. Aries is still recovering from a serious illness and doesn't see anyone. Yet she's entertaining those Corwins, and now you. A bit strange, isn't it?"
"No more strange than your being here." At least my defenses were up. "The mysterious chauffeur who doesn't have a last name! Why do they call Dillow and Crampton by their last names but call you Kirk?"
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"If you need another name, McKaye will do. But I asked Dillow to use my first name, and no one seemed to mind."
Will do? I wondered. "Why do you think things aren't going well for me at the house?"
"That's easy. Your face gives you away. It's an interesting face, really. But all the lines turn down, instead of up, and you're too young for that. Besides, I have my spies who report to me."
"For someone who's worked here for such a short time, you've settled in pretty well."
"I can settle in anywhere. I've had a lot of practice. Besides, I have a friend up there. Not either of the Corwins, I might add."
"And certainly not Dillow. Though I still wonder why he was willing to hire you. Uncle Tim, perhaps?"
"Tim's okay. I've played chess with him a couple of times. His deafness is no handicap there."
How, I wondered, had he managed to meet the elusive Timothy Radburn? How had he managed to get into the house and up to the room on the third floor? Kirk McKaye seemed to attract unanswered questions.
"I mean Alice," he went on. "The little girl. She's full of words that nobody listens to. So I'm somebody for her to talk to. Since Mrs. Aries probably wouldn't approve of her talking to me, that adds to my attraction. She tells me she played a trick on you last night."
"I see what you mean about spies."
His laugh was so sudden and so unrestrained that he made me jump.
"You really shouldn't be talking to me, you know," he said. "I'm probably subversive and off limits. But at least they can't fire you. And my time's sure to be short. Just so I have enough for something I might want to do. When I make up my mind what it is." Something in his voice had changed, and he wasn't laughing now. "In the meantime, I try to please Dillow. Mrs. Aries regards me as part of the scenery
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and she doesn't hobnob with the hired help. So I take care to behave myself perfectly when anyone is watching."
"How do I happen to be in a different category? Why are you talking to me? How do you know I won't tell Mrs. Aries everything you've said?" I glanced up at the house uneasily, wondering if we were being observed. Only the roof and a third-floor room peaked above the trees.
"Don't worry," he assured me. "They can't see this spot from most of the house. I've checked. And if you want to tell them, of course you will. Though what will you tell? That the chauffeur has been fresh and out of line, and you've been listening? Anyway, it doesn't matter."
He could really get under my skin. "What does matter to you?" I asked sharply.
"A lot of things. This garden, for instance. I live up the little hill there in what they call the potting shed. It's a decent enough building, and since the gardener doesn't stay in it these days, I have the rooms at one end. So I can come down here whenever I like. I heard about the Radburn garden long before I came to Victoria."
It seemed surprising that this rather hard, derisive man should be sensitive to the gentle beauty around us. But as I watched him I saw that his feeling toward the garden was different from mine. Something cool had touched his eyes. The thought struck me that this might be a dangerous man -even moving outside the law, if he chose.
"How did you learn about the garden?" I asked.
He considered my question as though I'd handed him a challenge.
"I heard about it years ago, Mrs. Thorne. Edward Aries described it to me. Alice's father. We were both in our early twenties then."
This silenced me completely. If he had known Edward Aries, a whole range of possibilities might open up. He was certainly no ordinary chauffeur, and there would be some strong secret purpose in his working here.
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