It clawed
the elevator-boy, bit a postman, held up the traffic for miles,
and was finally shot by a policeman. Why, for the next few days
there was nothing in the papers at all but Miss Devenish and her
puma. There was a war on at the time in Mexico or somewhere, and
we had it backed off the front page so far that it was over before
it could get back. So, you see, there's always hope. I've been
nursing the papers with bits about Eustace, so as to be ready for
the grand-stand play when it comes--and all we can do is to wait.
It's something if he's been throwing eggs. It shows he's waking
up.'
The door opened and Lord Wetherby entered. He looked fatigued. He
sank into a chair and sighed.
'I cannot get it,' he said. 'It eludes me.'
He lapsed into a sombre silence.
'What can't you get?' said Lady Wetherby, cautiously.
'The expression--the expression I want to get into the child's
eyes in my picture, "Innocence".'
'But you have got it.'
Lord Wetherby shook his head.
'Well, you had when I saw the picture,' persisted Lady Wetherby.
'This child you're painting has just joined the Black Hand. He
has been rushed in young over the heads of the waiting list
because his father had a pull. Naturally the kid wants to do
something to justify his election, and he wants to do it quick.
Pages:
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155