The Missing Angel by Erle Cox (english books to improve english txt) đ
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âGuess where I was last night,â he said one morning. âIâd hate to.â
Geraldine tossed her head.
âParis!â he replied. âYouâve no idea what Paris can be with Nicholas for
a guide.â
âPerhaps itâs just as well I have no idea,â sniffed Miss Brand.
âWowser!â His eyes danced.
âI suppose Melbourne is too small for our Mr. Jones now?â she said.
âNo, my dear Geraldine, too hot. Our mutual friend, Inspector Kane, seems
to think that there is no one in the city but me.â
âWell, thereâs one thing, I canât retort and call you a wowser now.â
âThereâs a high moral authority who is in complete agreement with you on
one point at any rate.â
âAnd she doesnât know half,â added Geraldine.
Tydvil screwed up his eyes. âNot one-sixteenth, Iâm happy to say.â
âWell,â said Geraldine, âyouâd better make the most of your little
playmate, Nicholas. Youâve only four days to go now.â
âWith his help, my dear girl, youâd be surprised to know what can be done
with four days.â Tydvilâs voice was full of appreciation.
âParis again tonight then, I suppose?â
âYou bet! I won twenty-five thousand francs at Long-champs, and I donât
want to waste one franc of it.â
âAnd to think Iâm worrying about you and that wretched Bill,â she said
with deep feeling.
âForget it, Geraldine. I have.â He smiled.
âYou men! What with you and Billy Iâm perfectly dizzy.â
âDonât tell me heâs gone off the rails.â Tydvil looked at her in
surprise.
âI was idiot enough to warn him not to back that wretched horse you told
me about.â
Tydvil chuckled. âSurely you knew better than that.â
âIâve learned now. But he has wasted twenty pounds on it,â she said
indignantly.
âWait until next Tuesday afternoon before you say âwastedâ,â he
suggested.
âThat is one reason why I am going out to Flemington with him on Cup
Day,â she explained.
âAnd another?â He raised his brows.
âA new frockâitâs a dream.â
âNot such a wowser after all.â He laughed. âListen! This is an order. You
and Billy lunch with me out at the course on Tuesday.â
Geraldine gurgled. âAll right, between you and your fine friend my
reputation is damaged already. I might as well get some fun out of it.â
On the Saturday morning Geraldine, having sorted the mail, was called
upstairs before Tydvil arrived at the office. On her way down again she
encountered a department manager coming up. He looked as though he had
been seeing things.
âGood gracious! Mr. Gale, whatâs happened?â she enquired.
He goggled at her and gasped. âHoly Wars! Miss Brand, have you seen the
Chief?â
âWhatâs wrong?â she demanded.
âG-g-go and look at himâŠâ He passed on, suffering under some
powerful emotion.
Geraldineâs feet scarcely touched the floor as she hastened to the
Chiefâs office.
She stood petrified as she entered. The head of C. B. & D. was inspecting
himself before his mirror with not a little satisfaction in his reflected
expression.
As he heard her he turned. âDo you like it?â He was grinning widely.
Mr. Tydvil Jones was wearing a new suit, oyster grey in colour, and of
rakish cut. On his feet were tan shoes. The grey Alpine hat was set at a
defiant angle. Across his chest was the strap of the race glasses that
rested in their case against his hip.
Still Geraldine stared. Nothing less like the once Tydvil Jones was it
possible to imagine. Suddenly she found her voice and gasped, âLovely!â
Then she leaned against the wall and laughed.
âReally, Geraldine!â he protested.
âItâs perfectâperfect! ButâŠâ She struggled with her mirth. âBut
what did the High Moral Authority say?â
Tydvil joined in her laughter. âI donât know all of it yet. She hadnât
half finished when I left home.â
âDo you know,â she said as she recovered herself, âthat you have almost
given Mr. Gale apoplexy?â
âHe certainly did look surprised when I passed him coming in,â Tydvil
said. âDid he say anything to you?â
âJust âHoly Wars!ââ gurgled Geraldine.
âHump!â Tydvil commented. âAnd thatâs just what it is going to be at
home.â
It might have been Holy Wars at home, but on the Monday morning, it was
an unchastened and merry Tydvil who whistled him way down the warehouse.
In answer to Geraldineâs enquiry he told her he had had a gorgeous day,
though it had cost him twenty poundsââquidâ he called it; a word that
never before had passed his lips.
That morning he dictated a notice to the entire staff of the warehouse.
It announced general increases in salaries of from ten per cent. to as
much as twenty per cent. among its lower paid members. With twinkling
eyes he said to Geraldine as she took it down in shorthand. âMy charity
is beginning at home in futureâand besides, Iâm making more out of this
particular form of banditry than I need.â
By evening when the news spread round the great building, there were few
who were not whistling as merrily as Tydvil had been in the morningâand
the morrow was Cup Day and a holiday, There was not a more contented
population in the city than that of C. B. & D.
On that November third, that dawned next day, there were many
lighthearted people in the good city of Melbourne. But of them all were
none so carefree as Geraldine Brand and William Brewer. Geraldine had
shut the thought of the next day out of her mind. Billyâs gasp of delight
as his eyes fell in the picture she made in her new frock, would have
gratified any girl. Flemington was at its best, the weather was at its
best, and the thousands that thronged the wide, green grounds rose to the
occasion.
Neither Geraldine nor Billy had dreamed what a perfect host Tyddie could
be. He treated Billy as a friend and an equal and chaffed the two
happily. At lunch Geraldine glanced round. Tydvil read her meaning, and
laughed. âNo, Geraldine,â he said, âNicholas declined to join us. He said
he might be a discordant factor, and that the spoons might not be long
enough for your liking.â
Alas! For evil communications that corrupt good morals. At lunch
Geraldine sipped suspiciously at first, at the glass of vintage wine that
was poured out for her. The second sip was less suspicious. After that
there was no suspicion whatever. When they arrived in the open air again
Geraldine Brand entrusted to William Brewer one pound to put on a horse
of her own choosing, despite the advice of Tydvil and Billy. When, later
on she collected eight pounds, there was no holding her.
The race for Thundercloudâs Cup still remains a mystery in turf history.
The horseâs owner admitted ruefully, afterwards, that only certain
representations of certain people who had drawn Thundercloud in a certain
consultation induced him to leave the horse in the race. Despite Tydvilâs
investment the bookmakers were still offering two hundred to one against,
before the race. But even the most hardened optimists resisted that
baitâto their subsequent sorrow. And, to her disgust, Geraldine was
among them.
When the three, who had secured an excellent post on the terrace, saw the
drove of flying horses and colours pass the stand for the first time,
Thundercloud was a comfortable last, and looked like staying there
forever. By the time the horses had reached the far side of the course
Tydvil returned his glasses to their case. Thundercloud was still holding
his position at the tail of the procession. Billy, however, was made of
sterner optimistic material. His comments as the field swept nearer the
straight were anything but complimentary to Thundercloud.
Then, as the head of the field was turning into the straight, something
happened. Some one hundred and fifty thousand voices yelling âLapwingâ or
âDioriteâ or âHectorâ were suddenly smitten into silence. Something in
gold, white and chocolate came raging out from the back of the ruck. It
swept round the turn neck and neck with Lapwing and Hector, then passed
them, flashing down the straight lengths ahead of the thundering mob
behind. To the staring crowd it looked more like an accelerated motion
picture of a horse than a living animal. The crowd moaned in unison as it
flashed passed the post with a dozen lengths to spare. It is difficult
even now to say whether horse, jockey, owner, stewards or the crowd were
the most astounded. Thundercloud came in, for the only time in Cup
history, in a dead silenceâthe crowd had lost its voiceâtemporarily.
There was plenty said and yelled later on. All the explanation that
Brandish, the amazed jockey, could give was, that Thundercloud seemed to
go mad just before he reached the straight. He gave a bound that nearly
unseated his rider and took complete charge of his movements, which were
as swift as they were incomprehensible.
The most searching veterinary examination failed to detect dope. The
ownerâs evident astonishment rang true. The stewards saw no reason to
interfere with the judgeâs decision. But that all came afterwards.
Something, however, happened on the terrace as Thundercloud passed the
post that amused the immediate spectators. After having ardently embraced
one of her companions, a daughter of the gods in green, who was tall and
most divinely fair, put her arms about the neck of her other companion
and kissed him warmly on both cheeks. Those who witnessed the incident
would have been far more interested had they known that the recipient of
the second demonstration was no other than Tydvil Jones.
âArenât you ashamed of yourself, Geraldine?â protested the pleased but
embarrassed Tydvil.
âBilly,â Tydvil turned to Brewer, âcan you not control this turbulent
wench?â
âNot I,â laughed Billy, âsheâs a shameless baggage.â
âWowsers!â taunted Geraldine.
âDonât you dare call me that,â Tydvil stormed at her.
âWould you prefer âDarlingâ?â Her voice was a caress.
âBilly! Stop her, sheâs worse than Thundercloud,â cried Tydvil.
âDonât you try to bully me,â she said recklessly, âor Iâll kiss you both
again.â
Just at that moment Geraldine saw Nicholas Senior making towards them
through the now disintegrating crowd. In her humour at this juncture
Geraldine forgot her animosity and greeted him cheerfully as he came up
to them.
âOh Mr. Senior,â she said, her face flushed with excitement, âdid you see
the race? Wasnât Thundercloud wonderful?â
âHe was,â smiled Mr. Senior. âI ought to know, because I was riding him.â
âCongratulations!â laughed Geraldine.
âAfter all,â she told Billy that night as they talked over the events of
the day, âI couldnât be rude to anyone who had won six thousand pounds
for us? Could I?â
âHeaven forbid,â replied Billy piously, âthat I should try to gauge what
you could or could not do. Youâre beyond me. But for the love oâ Mike,
dearest, donât alter.â
Next morning Geraldine arrived at the office with all her misgivings
intact. It seemed somehow strange that the day was no different from
other days. Yet everything in the office was exactly the same as usual.
To her there should have been some gloomâsome recognition of Tydvilâs
peril. But that terrible Bill was due at midday, and none but she and
Billy knew it.
Not the knowledge that their home was assured, relieved her fears for
Tydvil. She confided her feelings to Billy, who shared them, but who
could offer no suggestions.
Tydvil arrived on time and seemed less concerned than ever. He teased her
about her behaviour of the day before and
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