Part 25 (1/2)
It was in this place that Clive encountered Cecil Reeve one stormy midnight.
”You don't come here often, do you?” said the latter.
Clive said he didn't.
”Neither do I. But when I do there's a few doing. Will you have a high one, Clive? In deference to our late and revered university?”
Clive would so far consent to degrade himself for the honour of Alma Mater.
There was much honour done her that evening.
Toward the beginning of the end Clive said: ”I can't sit up all night, Cecil. What do you do for a living, anyway?”
”Bank a bit.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”It was in this place that Clive encountered Cecil Reeve one stormy midnight.”]
”Oh, that's just amus.e.m.e.nt. What do you work at?”
”I didn't mean that kind of bank!” said Reeve, annoyed. All sense of humour fled him when hammerlocked with Bacchus. At such psychological moments, too, he became indiscreet. And now he proposed to Clive an excursion amid what he termed the ”high lights of Olympus,” which the latter discouraged.
”All right then. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give a Byzantine party! I know a little girl--”
”Oh, shut up!”
”She's a fine little girl, Clive--”
”This is no hour to send out invitations.”
”Why not? Her name is Catharine--”
”Dry up!”
”Catharine Greensleeve--”
”What!”
”Certainly. She's a model at Winton's joint. She's a peach.
Appropriately crowned with roses she might have presided for Lucullus.”
Clive said: ”By that you mean she's all right, don't you? You'd better mean it anyway!”
”Is that so?”
”Yes, that's so. I know her sister. She's a charming girl. All of them are all right. You understand, don't you?”
”I understand numerous things. One of 'em's Catharine Greensleeve. And she's some plum, believe _me_!”
”That's all right, too, so stop talking about it!” retorted Clive sharply.
”Sure it's all right. Don't worry, just because you know her sister, will you?”