The Conscience Of The Rich (2012) - Plot & Excerpts
The same evening I arrived at Antrobus Street at half past six, in the middle of Charles’ surgery hour. She was waiting for me in her drawing-room; outside the house was dingy, but the room struck bright. It was her own taste, I thought, as I glanced at the Dufys on the cream-papered walls. She herself looked both calm and pretty. Her first words were: ‘We know what you’ve come for, don’t we?’ She gazed at me with steady blue eyes, without expression. I said: ‘Do you? It will be easier if you do.’ ‘It can’t be very easy, can it?’ ‘How in God’s name,’ I said, ‘did you come to get into this mess?’ ‘No.’ She sounded more equable and business-like than I did; she was not going to begin on those terms. ‘It isn’t as simple as that.’ I settled myself to wait for her. ‘I suppose,’ I said, ‘you haven’t decided what to do?’ ‘We’re not certain yet.’ She was saying ‘we’ again. Business-like as she sounded, she was making it clear that Charles knew everything.
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