Anglo-Saxon Attitudes Read Online Free Page A

was with Stokesay at Melpham?'
    'No,' said Rose ruminatively. 'Or wait a bit. I believe Gerald Middleton was there. But he was only a young student, of course, and it's quite outside his period.'
    'Oh,' said Clarissa, 'Middleton's World of Canute. Of course, I've read that, or looked at it, perhaps I should say. It's rather heavy, isn't it?'
    'Well, we think Gerald Middleton's a great stylist,' said Rose, and added archly, 'but then we're not novelists.'
    'Fancy Middleton being alive,' said Clarissa. 'Shades of the schoolroom!'
    Rose was nettled. 'Gerald Middleton can't be more than ten years older than me. He only left off lecturing two years ago. He's not much over sixty,' she decided.
    'He hasn't written for a long time, I think,' Clarissa sought forgiveness.
    'No, I'm afraid not. He doesn't thrive any more than I do in this world of increasing specialization. He'll be there this evening though, I'm sure. All the serious early medievalists will be, you know. You're quite privileged. I'll introduce you to him and then you can ask him about Melpham. Not that he can tell you anything that isn't in Professor Stokesay's articles.'
    Clarissa saw a chance for independence. 'As a matter of fact I know someone who was a friend of Professor Middleton, a very great friend at one time,' she added with a coy laugh. 'Dollie Stokesay. But you probably know her too.'
    Dr Lorimer, who was not willing to accept from Clarissa the suggestion of old scandal about a colleague, said, 'I saw her, of course, once or twice when she kept house for her father-in-law. But she never helped Professor Stokesay with his work, whatever she may have done in the home.' And then she added, 'I'd no idea she was still alive.'
    'Oh, indeed, yes. We're near neighbours,' Clarissa cried, as though this gave Mrs Stokesay a peculiar claim to life. 'Darling Dollie! I simply can't imagine her in the academic world. She's such a marvellous Philistine.' She paused, and added reverently, 'But a wonderfully integral person.'
    This was not a concept that claimed Dr Lorimer's attention. 'We must be going, dear,' she said, and she beckoned to the waitress. 'Pforzheim's a brilliant lecturer - the greatest medievalist in Germany today. You're quite privileged, you know. I'm sure you'll find a lot of inspiration in his talk.' She picked up her two shopping-bags. 'But there won't be any witches, I'm afraid,' she added with a chuckle.
    Clarissa insisted on taking one of the bags from her and instantly regretted her politeness. It seemed incredible that any shopping-bag could be so heavy. She did not know, and Dr Lorimer did not remember, that at the bottom of this bag were many milk-bottles that should have been returned to the dairy, as well as many empty tins intended for the dustbin. A most peculiar smell disturbed Clarissa as they walked out of Lyons'. Dr Lorimer had also forgotten a tin of dog's meat she had bought for her fox-terrier a month ago.
    'Let's go by underground, shall we, dear?'  said Dr Lorimer. 'I love the rush-hour tubes; so full of interesting types. Your raw material, I suppose.'
    Clarissa's heart sank.
     
    Mrs Clun's heart sank as she recognized her husband's mood. Her thin frame shivered as much with alarm as with the intense cold. She had followed him out on to the porch to ask him about the sherry, and now she had been there Over ten minutes listening to his strictures while the east wind whistled into every open crevice of her afternoon frock. Mrs Clun was extremely thin and not very young; also she had never worn enough underclothes since a time many years ago at the college garden party when her husband had reproved her publicly for looking 'lumpy'. She tried always to tell herself how proud she should be that after so many years he noticed her figure at all.
    Professor Clun's dapper, soldierly little body was well padded. 'If, of course, you're going to regard every suggestion I make as a criticism,' he said, and his hard green eyes glared above his