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Dơnload New Critical Nostalgia. 1st Edition Christopher Rovee Full Chapter
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Christopher Rovee
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LV
A BLITHE twenty minutes or so after Lady Violet had “flown,” Elmer
and Mame decided to get a move on. For one thing Elmer’s curiosity
had been tremendously piqued by the surprise that had been
predicted. What could it be? Lady Violet, he supposed, was just
pulling his leg. Yet he didn’t think so really; he knew she was not the
kind of person to break a solemn promise. Still there was nothing to
deduce from the attitude of Mame. The aider and abettor of Lady
Violet was giving nothing away. The stars were very bright, the air for
the time of year quite balmy, the pavements of London were dry as a
bone. All the conditions, therefore, were favourable for outdoor
exercise. Indeed, as Elmer said, or it may have been Mame who
said it, the evening was just ideal for the purpose.
Mame put on her lovely new cloak trimmed with fur, or at least Elmer
put it on for her. Then Elmer got into his overcoat and clapped on his
smart gibus, which gave him such a look of distinction, that a loafer
cadging for pence just beyond the courtyard of the hotel promptly
addressed him as Captain.
The mutt got the coppers all right. It was not so much that Elmer was
susceptible to that kind of flattery, as that just now he was not in a
mood to refuse anything to anybody. He was moving about this
evening in an enchanted world.
At every step they took in it now, the world through which they were
moving seemed to grow more entrancing. For one thing there was a
powerful magic in the stars. The strip of moon, too, as Mame
remarked, seemed to be trying to put one over on them. She made
this observation while they were in the act of steering each other
across the perilous vortex from Northumberland Avenue to Morley’s
Hotel, and nearly barging into more than one of their compatriots in
the process.
However, they crossed in safety. Then they crossed again by the
National Gallery and sauntered gaily along until they came to that
great landmark in Mame’s adventurous life, the Carlton Hotel. She
gave a long look at it as they went by. Even on this night of marvels
she could not pass that consecrated spot without a sense of
amazement and gratitude.
They turned up by the Haymarket, according to plan, and then slowly
rounded the corner into Piccadilly Circus. And then it was in this
identical moment that the goods were delivered in the most
unexpected and convincing way. The surprise that had been
solemnly promised Elmer appeared right before his eyes.
A flaming electric sign winked letter by letter from the starlit sky.
PRAIRIE CITY
The Book
All the World
Is Reading
“Gee!” gasped Elmer. The secret had been carefully kept; he had not
an inkling! A surprise indeed, a masterpiece of boosting.
Mame’s voice rose in triumph. “Say, listen, Elmer. I’ll tell the world
this is where we put one over on London, England.”
Down Piccadilly they walked on air. No word passed. But to keep in
touch with himself and the mundane realities Elmer took Mame’s
hand. These were sublime moments. Suddenly, high above the
famous street, the sign flamed out again.
“Say, listen, Mame,” began Elmer hoarsely. But even with all his
genius to help him he did not know how to end, so he merely
squeezed her hand.
The dear little go-getter, how slick she was! But she was also
something much better than slick. She was fine and true. A minute
they stood gazing at the recurring sign in all its brilliancy and then,
life being too wonderful to stand still in it, they moved on hand in
hand.
Sure it was destiny they should be walking thus, four thousand miles,
four thousand solid miles, from the dear funny old spot in which they
had walked last. If only Cowbarn, Iowa, could see that sign. The
book all the world was reading; the book that had immortalised the
Folks. Would they recognise themselves in all their humour and their
quiddity?
When speech was possible between them, which was not until they
were near the precincts of the Ritz, it was Mame who dared. “Elmer,”
her voice was very soft, “I’m feeling pretty good about our book.” She
said “our book.” “There’s not one word we’ll ever have to wish away.
The folks aren’t saints, the folks aren’t, but there ain’t a line that’s
mean. There’s nothing to make ’em sorry. Some of the stories you
might have told you didn’t tell. Some of the things you might have
said you didn’t say. Elmer, I’m feeling pretty good about that book.”
Elmer, too, was feeling pretty good. In fact so good was Elmer
feeling, that for all he was fully launched in the realm of letters, he
still couldn’t find a word. Not one word. But like all young men of
force and originality he enjoyed a certain power of action. Quite
suddenly, without premeditation, he put one over on Mame. In the
dark shadow cast by the Ritz arcade, he kissed the little go-getter.
Mame was thrilled by the sheer audacity of the assault. But there
was the authority of the book all the world was reading that the heart
of woman is a queer thing; so she just didn’t mind at all. However,
she did not speak again, until hand in hand they had convoyed each
other past a line of pirates in the guise of taxi cabmen, whom the law
allows to range themselves in a row opposite Devonshire House.
Nay, she didn’t speak until they had passed the end of Half Moon
Street, the other side of the road, and on by the railings of the Green
Park.
It was when they halted to gaze at the bright windows of the Ladies
Imperium that Mame’s soft voice was heard.
“That’s the hen club I belong to.”
Elmer was impressed.
“It’s the Chickest hen club in London.”
Elmer guessed it was.
“Cocks are not admitted. If they was,”—Mame said was, yet she
knew perfectly well it wasn’t grammar,—“I’d take you right in and buy
you a cocktail.”
This was a little too much for the author of Prairie City. Such un-
American play upon words was the palpable fruit of mental stress,
but in combination with the magic of the stars it was a little too much
for Elmer P. Dobree.
“Now, then, Mame Durrance, can that.” And then immediately
opposite those flaming windows and in the lee of the park railings
which hid them well, he kissed her again with rapturous violence.
After this stimulating episode they moved slowly along by the Green
Park. They still walked hand in hand; even now it didn’t seem safe to
let go of each other. But when they came to the Quadriga, that
symbol of victory significantly poised on the top of the park gates,
which is much and justly admired, they stopped and gazed up.
They gazed up at the Quadriga by the royal light of the stars. Their
hands were locked in each other’s. The eternal verities caught them
suddenly. Mighty, mighty forces were flowing through and over,
through and over, this brief and transient, this pitifully brief and
transient, life of man.
“Elmer!” It was Mame’s voice, but hardly more than a whisper, it was
so solemn and so hushed. “Imagine, Elmer, you and me—”
But Elmer said nothing. With a queer tightening of the breast he
continued to gaze upwards to the symbol of victory on the top of the
park gates.
THE END
NOVELS by J. C. SNAITH
ARAMINTA
Delightful blending of satire, comedy and romance,
telling the experience of an extraordinary country girl
in the world of fashion.
THE UNDEFEATED
“It is distinctly a big novel—a book of vision and of
understanding, of truth and beauty.”—New York Times.
“The simplest and straightest work imaginable and
mightily impressive.”—Washington Star.
THE SAILOR
“It is a book that overwhelms the reader by the
poignant and magnificent message that it carries. It
is a book that is unforgettable.”—Springfield Union.
“Interpretative, creative work of a very high order.”—New
York Times.
THE COMING
“Mr. Snaith handles his theme delicately, poetically,
with a fine and sensitive reverence.”—Independent.
“It is a daring performance of impressive and triumphant
strength.”—New York Tribune.
Each $2.00
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