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Authors: Winston Graham

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BOOK: The Angry Tide
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III

'This is Adde
rley coming across to us now,' Ross said in an undertone. 'Who is he?'

'Friend
of George's. He was down at Tre
nwith last summer. A member of Parliament. Ex-captain in a foot regiment, like me. A wild man.'

'Wilder than you?'

'Different.'

'With his wife?"

'I doubt it.'

Demelza
eyed the man as he came towards diem, erect, thin as a pole, pale-faced. He was dressed in a dark olive-green spotted silk coat and breeches, the suit embossed with silver.

'My dear Poldark, I didn't see you at the opening today! May I present Miss Drommie Page? Captain Poldark. And
Mrs
Poldark, I presume?
Enchante.
I suppose the King didn't actually
read
his speech, did he?'

'No, it w
as read for him. Were you not th
ere?'

'No, my dear, that's why I didn't see you. How drab it is to be recalled to London so early merely to pass some flatulent bill to do with the militia. The stinks haven't subsided yet. Do you live distant, Mrs Poldark?'

'In Cornwall.'

'But of course. Your husb
and not only sits in the Boscawe
n interest but
lives
there! Greater love hath no man!'

They talked for a few minutes, Adderley's snake-grey eyes travelling assessingly over
Demelza
's face and figure,
Demelza
smiling up at him from time to time and then glancing away, taking in the colour and the lights and the strolling, chatting figures and the palm trees and the music from a further room.

'Rot me,' said Monk, dabbing his nose with a lace handkerchief,

'I'm as hungry as a cannibal. Shall we go in to supper, Mistress Poldark?'

'Rot me too,
' said Demelza, and took a furth
er look around the room. 'Well, then?'

'I'm sorry, sir, but I am engaged.' 'By whom?' 'My husband.'

'Your husband! My dear, it is simply not done! It is not permitted for married people to eat together! Not in London society.'

'I'm sorry. I thought it was
...
But if you feel like a cannibal, might you not mistake what you were eating?'

Adderley's eyes crinkled. 'That I might, ma'am. You, for instance. I have a catholic taste. Look
...
Poldark is busy with Drommie. He can lead her in. I promise we'll sit at the same table.'

Swift thoughts: this man George's friend: Ross doesn't like him: but this an evening out: how to refuse?
...
needless offence
...

She said :'Then let us all go in together! Ross
...
Captain Adderley is becoming ferocious for food. Shall we all eat now?'

She saw a mild glint on Ross's face when he turned, though it would have been imperceptible to anyone less attuned to his feelings.

He said: 'By all means,' though the words lack enthusiasm.

On Adderle
y's arm
Demelza
walked to the supper room, followed by Ross and Andromeda.

'So you find me ferocious,' Monk said. 'I would not have thought you a woman easily intimidated, Mistress Poldark.'

'Oh, very easily, Captain Adderley.'

'Is it my reputation that frightens you?'

'I don't know your reputation, sir.'

'Two things I like best of all: to fight and to make love.'

'With the same person?'

'No, but on the same day. One whets the appetite for the other, ma'am.'

In the next room a great table was heavy with food prepared in the most extravagant and artistic fashion. According to your tastes a white-hatted servant behind the table would cut you a piece of Windsor Castle, Buckingham House, St Paul's, Westminster Abbey; or a whale, a giant dormouse, a horse or a crocodile. Since they were early on the scene most of these wonders were unscathed, and everyone who entered the room gasped at the artistic ingenuity they must help to ruin.

'It looks,' said George, 'as if we have lost our friends.' 'Yes,' Elizabeth said; 'I am somewhat surprised at Monk's taste.' 'Oh, I set him after them. There's nothing Monk rises to so quickly as a challenge.'

'I didn't mean the Poldarks,' Elizabeth replied a little acidly. 'I meant the young lady he has chosen to bring with him.'

'Oh, Miss Page. They say she's th
e natural daughter of Lord Keppe
l. Pretty but penniless
and vicious: it's a common tale
. Oh, your lordship
...'

'Sir?'

'Warleggan. You remember at Ranelagh. May I introduce you to my wife. Viscount Calthorp: Elizabeth.'

In the outer hall nearly all the guests had arrived. The Prince Regent had sent a late message regretting that he would be unable to be present.

'Well,' said Caroline to her husband, 'the worst is nearly over. I trust you're not wishing yourself back with your patients.'

'No,' said Dwight, smiling. In fact he had that moment been reflecting that Mrs Coad, in extremis when he last called, would be dead before the end of the month. And Char Nanfan struck with an inexplicable sickness. And Ed Bartle's children, three down with a pulmonary infection following the scarlet fever
...

'Come, let us go and cat,' Caroline said, linking her arm in his. 'Some of the tabbies up here have been doubting that I really
have
a husband. I must display you all I can!'

'Where
are
Ross and Demelza?'

'I don't know. I saw them just now
...
Oh, with Monk Adderle
y and his pretty piece! That
is
a
surprise. Well, then, we must e
at with someone else'

'I imagine they must have been invited, for I don't believe they would ever have chosen that company,' said Dwight. 'Was that Lord Falmouth who came in just now? With the old lady?'

'Yes. His mother. We're honoured, since he is very little more sociable in London than in Cornwall.'

They moved back into the reception ro
om, where servants were discreetl
y rearranging the chairs so that later in the evening there would be room to dance.

Monk Adderle
y had steered
Demelza
into a corner seat while Ross and
the
girl were still choosing their food.

'Those
are
handsome buttons,'
Demelza
said, pointing to the large ones he wore on each sleeve.

'Yes? You notice the lock of hair preserved in each?'

'That's what I thought it was. How nicely worked. Do they - docs the hair belong to Miss Page?'

'No, to a Lieutenant Framfie
ld. He was the last man I killed.'

For the first time Demelza noticed the scar on the side of his head, half hidden by his stiff, curled hair.

'The last?'

'Well, two is all. And another maimed.' 'Do you not get put in prison for murder? Or even hanged?' 'Fair fight is not murder. Of course there is sometimes a trial. The first time I pleaded benefit of clergy.' 'Are you a clergyman?'

Adderley's eyes crinkled again. It seemed to be the nearest he ever came to laughing. 'A cleric, my dear. A clerk. I can write. I was excused on those grounds and sentenced only to be branded.'

'Branded?'

'Yes
...
With a cold iron. Let me show you the mark.' He extended his long thin hand in which the bones and veins delicately showed. She repressed a shiver.

'There is no mark
...
Oh, I
see.'

'The second time I was found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to ten days in prison.'

'And the third time you really
will
be hanged?' she asked politely.

'Who knows? Who cares? Ah, here's Poldark with my little girl. I feel sorry for Drommie.'

'Why sorry? Ross is good company - if he likes his company.'

'Which he appears not altogether to be doing at this moment. No, my dear, I meant on other counts. Drommie has a beautiful body. I should know. I have investigated it thoroughly. I could commend her to any sculptor. But as to her mind, I do no
t think there will ever be anyth
ing more important in it than a hairpin.'

The lady being so discussed said to Ross: 'Are you
strong?
You look
very
strong.' Her voice and eyes were full of a bored innuendo.

'Very,' he said, looking her over.

'How int
eresting.' She yawned. 'How vastl
y interesting.' 'But I'd warn you. I have one weak leg.' She looked down. 'Which one?' 'They take it in turns.'

After an appreciable moment she tapped him on
the
shoulder with her fan. 'Captain Poldark,
you're making merry with me.' ‘I
wouldn't presume on such short acquaintance. Has Captain
Adderle
y never told you the old infantryman's adage?

'What is that?

'It's one leg of an elephant saying to another: "Damn your eyes, move a little quicker."' 'I call that quaint.' She yawned again. 'Is it past your bedtime, Miss Page?' 'No
...
I've only just got up.' 'My daughter's just like that' 'How old is she?' 'Nearly five.'

"Now you're jesting again
.' ‘I
swear it's the truth.'

‘N
o
...
I mean by comparing
me’’
Is Monk a friend of yours?'

'It would seem so.'

'And of your wife's?'

'That remains to be seen.'

'Of course. She's vastly attractive.'

'I think so.'


And me?'

He looked at her. 'You?'

'Yes
...
what do you think of mc?'

He considered. 'I think it
is
past your bedtime.'

'That could be considered an insult, Captain Poldark.'

'Oh,
no!’

'Or - as a compliment
...'

He smiled at her. 'Oh, yes,' he said.

People sat at tables of varying size, and wine and bread and knives and forks were rapidly put before them. Adderley had chosen a table for four, which made them somewhat isolated from the rest. Ross bore
the
company he did not want with great good humour, and only occasionally rose to bait that was put before
him. As when Adderle
y began to speak of the expenses of the last electio
n and how it had cost Lord Mandeville and Thomas Fcllowe
s upwards of £13,000 between them to get in, of which he'd been told, by God, that near £7,000 had gone in innkeepers' bills. And how lucky he and Ross were to be the tame lap-dogs of an indulgent peer.

'I think
our
"indulgent peer" is here tonight,' Demelza put in as she saw Ross about to speak. 'I haven't seen him for upwards of two years, Ross,
and I must ask him how Mrs Gowe
r is.'

And, said Adderley, how old Reynolds was known in the House as the Dinner Gong, because whenever he got up to speak a hundred and forty members would walk out. And how on one occasion two years ago, a distinguished lady sitting in the strangers' gallery, caught up in a long debate, had been unable to contain herself so that what she spilled fell upon the head of old John Luttrell, thereby ruining both his hat and his coat. 'And twas lucky it did not blind him, by God!' said Addcrlcy.

Miss Page went off
into little
muffled screeches of laughter. 'How deliciously vulgar of you, Monk! I call that entertaining!'

'Don't tell me,' said Monk to the others, 'that you do not appreciate the anecdote! Walpole always encouraged vulgar conversation on the grounds that it was the only talk all could enjoy.'

'Not at all,' said Ross. 'For are we not all vulgars ourselves?'

No one spoke for a moment

'In what way?'

'Of a common or usual kind. You cannot suppose there is a uniqueness in human beings that puts one or another above the rest -
surely
! Common, customary or familiar. We all share the same hungers and the same functions: the young and
the
old, the lord and the beggar. Only the perverse fail to laugh and cry at the same things. That's common sense. Vulgar common sense.'

The uneasy supper went on to its end, and presendy broke up, and the ladies rcdrcd and the men also, and when they came down dancing had begun; and an hour passed pleasantly. Monk danced once with
Demelza
, and then not again, for Dwight took her away, and then Ross, and then other men intervened. She was not sure of the most fashionable steps, but what she knew seemed to suffice.

BOOK: The Angry Tide
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