The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University
The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University
The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University
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“It will be terrible.”<br />
“Not a bit of it. Why should you feel embarrassed?<br />
He must have realised by now that you acted in <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>on</strong>ly possible way. It was absurd his ever expecting<br />
you to marry him. I mean to say, just look at it dispassi<strong>on</strong>ately<br />
… Eustace … poor old Eustace … and you!<br />
<str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> Princess and <strong>the</strong> Swineherd!”<br />
“Does Mr. Hignett keep pigs?” she asked, surprised.<br />
“I mean that poor old Eustace is so far below you,<br />
darling, that, with <strong>the</strong> most charitable intenti<strong>on</strong>s, <strong>on</strong>e<br />
can <strong>on</strong>ly look <strong>on</strong> his asking you to marry him in <strong>the</strong><br />
light of a record exhibiti<strong>on</strong> of pure nerve. A dear, good<br />
fellow, of course, but hopeless where <strong>the</strong> sterner realities<br />
of life are c<strong>on</strong>cerned. A man who can’t even stop a<br />
dog-fight! In a world which is practically <strong>on</strong>e seething<br />
mass of fighting dogs, how could you trust yourself to<br />
such a <strong>on</strong>e? Nobody is f<strong>on</strong>der of Eustace Hignett than<br />
I am, but … well, I mean to say!”<br />
“I see what you mean. He really wasn’t my ideal.”<br />
“Not by a mile!”<br />
She mused, her chin in her hand.<br />
<str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> <str<strong>on</strong>g>Girl</str<strong>on</strong>g> <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Boat</strong><br />
56<br />
“Of course, he was quite a dear in a lot of ways.”<br />
“Oh, a splendid chap,” said Sam tolerantly.<br />
“Have you ever heard him sing? I think what first<br />
attracted me to him was his beautiful voice. He really<br />
sings extraordinarily well.”<br />
A slight but definite spasm of jealousy afflicted Sam.<br />
He had no objecti<strong>on</strong> to praising poor old Eustace within<br />
decent limits, but <strong>the</strong> c<strong>on</strong>versati<strong>on</strong> seemed to him to<br />
be c<strong>on</strong>fining itself too exclusively to <strong>on</strong>e subject.<br />
“Yes?” he said. “Oh yes, I’ve heard him sing. Not<br />
lately. He does drawing-room ballads and all that sort<br />
of thing still, I suppose?”<br />
“Have you ever heard him sing ‘My love is like a<br />
glowing tulip that in an old-world garden grows’?”<br />
“I have not had that advantage,” replied Sam stiffly.<br />
“But any<strong>on</strong>e can sing a drawing-room ballad. Now<br />
something funny, something that will make people<br />
laugh, something that really needs putting across …<br />
that’s a different thing altoge<strong>the</strong>r.”<br />
“Do you sing that sort of thing?”<br />
“People have been good enough to say ….”