almost beyond recognition. He had been a slim tripping blond-haloed faun. Now he looked coarse, fat, red-faced, pathetic, slightly wild, slightly sinister, perhaps a little mad. He had always been very stupid. However at that moment I was not concerned about Mr. Francis Marloe, but about the absolutely terrifying news which he had brought me.
«I am surprised that you felt it your business to come here. It was an impertinence. I don't want to know anything about my ex-wife. I finished with that business long ago.»
«And don't called me 'Brad.' I'm catching a train.»
«I won't keep you for a moment, I'll just explain, I've been thinking-yes, I'll make it snappy, just please listen to me, please, I beseech you-Look, it's this, you see you're the first person Chris will be looking up in London-« What?»
«She'll come straight to you, I bet, I intuit it-«Are you completely mad? Don't you know how-I can't discuss this-There can be no possible communication, this was utterly finished with years ago.»
«No, Brad, you see-«Don't call me 'Brad'!»
«All right, all right, Bradley, sorry, please don't be cross, surely you know Chris, she cared awfully for you, she really cared, much more than for old Evans, she'll come to you, even if it's only out of curiosity-«I won't be here,» I said. This suddenly sounded horribly plausible. Perhaps there is a deep malign streak in all of us. Christian certainly had more than her share of sheer malignancy. She might indeed almost instinctively come to me, out of curiosity, out of malice, as cats are said to jump onto the laps of cat-haters. One does feel a certain curiosity about an ex-spouse, a desire doubtless that they should have suffered remorse and disappointment. One only wants bad news. One wants to gloat. Christian would yearn to satisfy herself of my wretchedness.
Francis was going on, «She'll want to show off, she's rich now, you see, sort of merry-widow style, she'll want to show off to her old friends, anybody would, oh yes, she'll be sniffing after you, you'll see, and-«
«I'm not interested,» I cried, «I'm not interested!»
«You are interested, you know. Why if ever I saw an interested look on a bloke's face-«Has she got children?»
«There you are, you are. No, she hasn't. Now I've always liked you, Brad, and wanted to see you again, I've always admired you, I read your book-«Which book?»
«I forget its name. It was great. Maybe you wondered why I didn't turn upя?
«No!»
«Well, I was bashful, felt I was small fry like, but now with Christian turning up it's-You see, I'm in debt up to the neck, lave to keep changing my digs and that-Now Chris sort of paid ic off, you might say, some time back, and I thought that if you Chris were likely to get together again-«You mean you want me to intercede for you?»
«Sort of, sort of-«Oh God!» I said, «Get out, will you?» The idea of my prising money out of Christian for her delinquent brother struck me as unusually lunatic even for Francis.
«And, you know, I was knocked when I heard she was back, it's a shock, it changes a lot of things, I wanted to come and chew it over with somebody, for human interest like, and you were natural-I say, is there any drink in the house?»
«Just go, will you please.»
«I intuit she'll want you, want to impress you and that-We broke down in letters, you see, I was always wanting money, and then she got a lawyer to stop me writing to her-But now it's like a new start, if you could just sort of ease me in, bring me along like-«
«You want me to pose as your friend?»
«But we could be friends, Brad-Look, is there anything to drink in the house?»
«No.»
