angeiline watched through the rain streaked windows as mr mahmoud and his private secretary arrived. she had begged off easily enough from being in the greeting party, and her mother had assured her that neither mr mahmoud nor the secretary would give a moment’s thought to her, whether she was there or not.
angeline watched as mr mahmoud and the secretary and two other men - bodyguards? - got out of mr mahmoud’s heavy looking - bulletproof? - car. she thought it quite vulgar though just a bit thrilling that the two men might be carrying guns under their long black coats.
“what do you think the best place to be sure of avoiding these fellows?” she asked mademoiselle feval, the governess..
“either the blue room or the library,” replied mademoiselle. “the blue room is the more out of the way, but it seems unlikely that any would seek the library - even assuming that their duties would allow them to seek anything.”
“the library it is, then, “ said angeline, turning from the window.
just then rogers, the under-butler, appeared. “i just installed a couple of guests in the library, miss. a couple of emergency guests that mr wallace hastily recruited, because two others had begged off from dinner.”
angeline shrugged. “thank you, rogers. but in that case i shall be curious to meet them. i do not suppose they are carrying guns on their persons?”
“i assume they are not, miss,” rogers replied with a smile.
*
joe and mary looked up when angeline and mademoiselle feval entered the library. they were both seated in deep armchairs, reading books they had found on the shelves.
joe was reading “the adventures of philip”, by wlliam makepeace thackeray, and mary was reading volume 14 of professor harrison’s history of world religions.
angeline smiled at them as pleasantly as she was able. “i hope you are quite comfortable.”
“yes we are, thank you,” mary replied evenly, lowering her book. “mr wallace told us we could stay here until dinner.”
“oh, i do not doubt that,” angeline assured mary. “i do not question your being here.” she took a seat in a chair close to mary’s. ”it is a dreary day, isn’t it? otherwise we might go outside and play a little croquet, or badminton.”
“i have never played either of those games,” said mary, “no doubt they have their estimable qualities.”
“oh, they are just something to do, when one had to do something, as one is expected to do most of the time. look here, that is quite a tome you have selected there. are you really as interested as all that in the history of religion?”
“yes, i am, “ mary replied.
“and why is that, if i may ask?” angeline persisted. “are you a devotee of any established religion yourself”.
“no, i was thinking of starting my own religion.”
“oh. you know, that seems to be all the rage these days. we have had quite a few guests lately who have expressed the same inclination. in fact, we might have some right now who do.”
“that is very interesting,” mary replied with a polite smile.
“perhaps you could get together with them and compare notes,” observed mademoiselle feval.
“perhaps they could,” angeline agreed. “if most of them were not so terribly busy rearranging the map of the world.” she glanced at mary. “we have some frightfully important guests, you know, whom you shall see at dinner. such as mr mahmoud. you know who mr mahmoud is. of course.”
“of course,” mary answered. “i have seen him many times - on television.”
“and what opinion, if any, have you formed of him?” asked mademoiselle feval.
17. boys night out
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