“Then your mother knew about it, Cynthia?”
“It was Mother’s great scheme. She did most of the planning. That makes it all right, doesn’t it, Uncle George?”
He nodded. “It would have been all right anyhow, but you must allow me my irrational moments.”
He glanced round at the trees, the lawn, the flower-beds and the beautiful old house that looked on to them. Their day was over. The old, leisurely, cultured life for which they were designed had already almost passed away. The new order—the order which, in defiance of his ineradicable instincts, he had approved and supported—was already at the gate. Soon it would overrun these secluded lawns and paths, troop up the stone steps and crowd into the quiet, dignified rooms, outraging what was for him the most sacred thing in life. It was only right and just. He pulled himself together. “But, from the financial point of view,” he asked, “how are you going to manage it?”
“We’ve got people, who are interested in the experiment, to help. There’s enough money now to start the thing and run it on a fairly modest scale for ten years. It’s not an amateur affair, Uncle George. Mother roped in all sorts of people. We’ve got a council of experts to run the thing, and if it’s a success the funds will eventually be vested in the community. We must show you the scheme. And, when the building is finished and the thing running, you must come down and see it, won’t you?”
The car was at the door: the Buxteds were getting into it. He kissed Cynthia and shook her hand. “Good-bye, my dear. We must meet in London and you and Frank must tell me all about the scheme. It’s a wonderful idea.”
“And when everything’s complete,” she said again, “you’ll come down, won’t you, and see it running?”
He glanced up at the calm, wide front of the house. “No, my dear child,” he said, “I shall never come here again.” And it seemed to Cynthia, as the gaunt, black figure turned from her and got into the car, that she had said good-bye to a ghost.
THE END
This electronic edition published in 2011 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square, London
WC1B 3DP
Copyright © 1936 by Martin Armstrong
The moral right of author has been asserted
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication
(or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital,
optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written
permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this
publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages
ISBN: 9781448207398
eISBN: 9781448207084
Visit www.bloomsburyreader.com to find out more about our authors and their books
You will find extracts, author interviews, author events and you can sign up for
newsletters to be the first to hear about our latest releases and special offers
Venus Over Lannery Page 21