"It's a little difficult to be `interesting' to order. What particular
kind of narrative would distract you best?"
"Oh--something about yourself. Something you have done, or felt, or
planned for another day. I'm so interested in people!" returned Margot,
wrapping the folds of her cloak more closely round her, and slipping her
hands deep down into the inside pockets. "Have you had any thrilling
experiences or adventures that you don't mind speaking about? The more
thrilling the better, please, for my feet are so cold!"
She shivered, in involuntary childish fashion, and George Elgood sighed
profoundly.
"This is about the biggest adventure I've had. I was once snowed up for
a night in a rest-house on one of the Swiss mountains, but we had every
ordinary comfort, and knew exactly where we were, so that it didn't
amount to much, after all. I was going up with my guide, and met
another party of two brothers and a sister coming down, and we all took
shelter together, while one of the guides returned to the village, to
let the people in the hotel know of our safety. When the door was open
the prospect was sufficiently eerie, but we made a fire and brewed tea,
and passed the time pleasantly enough. The worst part of it was that I
had to give up the ascent next day, as there was too much snow to make
it prudent to go on."
"Oh! Yes! Was she pretty?"
She felt, rather than saw, his start of surprise.
"Who?"
"The sister. You said there was a girl in the other party."
"I'm sure I don't know! I didn't notice."
"Don't you care how people look?"
"It doesn't interest me, unless I am already attracted in other ways.
At least--" he hesitated conscientiously. "I used not to be. I think
I am growing more noticing. Geoff always said I needed to be awakened
to the claims of beauty. I understand now that it may be a great
additional charm."
How did he understand? Who or what had increased his power of
observation? Margot hoped that she knew; longed to be certain, yet
dreaded the definite information. In a little flurry of nervousness she
began to talk volubly on her own account, hoping thereby to ward off
embarrassing explanations.
"I seem fated to come in for adventures. I went over to Norway one
summer, and the engines broke down half-way across the North Sea, and at
the same time all the electric lights went out. It was terribly rough,
and we rolled for a couple of hours--the longest hours I have ever
known! The partitions of the cabins did not quite reach to the roof,
and you could hear the different conversations going on all round. In a
dreary kind of way I realised that they were very funny, and that I
should laugh over them another day. Quite near us were two jolly
English schoolboys, who kept ordering meals all the next day, and
shouting out details to a poor sister who was lying terribly ill in the
next cabin `Monica, we are having bacon! Have a bit of bread soaked in
fat?' Then Monica would groan--a heartrending groan, and they would
start afresh. `Buck up, Monica--try a muffin!' At lunch-time they
pressed roast beef and Yorkshire pudding upon her, and she groaned
louder than ever. She was ill, poor girl. In Norway there was an
alarm of fire in one of those terrible wooden hotels, and we all jumped
on each other's balconies to get to the outside staircases. It was soon
extinguished, but it was a very bad scare. And now this is the third.
Mr Elgood, do coo-ee again! Ron must be looking for me, unless he is
lost himself."