Murder While I Smile Read Online Free Page A

stay long,” Corinne said. “Perhaps one of you should take your own carriage.”
    “You’ll want a good night’s sleep to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for Luten’s return tomorrow,” Prance said. “Berkeley Square it is.”
    Corinne expected Prance would make some ironic comment about her missing Luten, but he sat silently brooding, which was unusual for him.
    When they reached her house, Coffen got out of the carriage and went to his own house to call his carriage.
    Prance said, “Can we talk for a minute, Corrie?”
    “Of course. Come in and have a glass of wine. In fact, I am not at all sure I shall even bother going to the rout.”
    “Anxious to get back to Childe Harold?” he asked archly.
    “No, anxious to discuss Chamaude, and that picture.”
    “That is what I want to talk about as well.”
     

Chapter Three
     
    “I daresay there will be no talking Coffen out of buying that ugly picture,” Corinne said, as she handed Prance a glass of wine.
    Prance stared at her with glazed eyes. “Picture?” he said. “Ah, the Poussin. That is not what I wished to discuss. It is a matter of much more import.” He drew a deep sigh, gave a dramatic little shudder, and announced in a hushed voice, “You are looking at a man in love.”
    “Not with her, I hope!”
    “Who else? The moment I gazed into her eyes, I knew. I felt our hearts touch——no, collide. It was no brushing of angels’ wings, but a primordial thunder. And did you ever see such eyes? I gazed into them for close to half an hour, yet after all that time, I could not tell you what color they are. Is that not odd?”
    “Not so odd when she stationed herself in shadows.”
    “Every curve and angle of her incomparable face is carved into the marrow of my bones, but those eyes! I have only a shimmering memory of darkness and depth. What mysteries are concealed in those bottomless pools?”
    “Don’t be absurd, Reggie! The lady is much too old for you. She’s ancient!”
    “Not ancient, ageless!”
    “And she’s too fast, too.”
    “I grant you she is probably a daughter of the game. It is her experience of the world that lends her that aura of... Ah, one hardly knows what to call it. Infinite woman! The gentleness of a dove, the vulnerability of a moth hovering toward the flame, the allure of a courtesan, and the passion of a Gypsy queen, all rolled into one exquisite she. I have wrestled with my conscience about pursuing her. Not for any feeling for that old slice Yarrow but because of Pattle. He fancies himself in love. She is worlds too experienced for him. He wouldn’t know what to do with such a woman.”
    “That should be no problem. I wager she knows exactly what to do with him, or any other man. Fleece him! It won’t do, Reggie.”
    He talked away every objection with a tolerant, forgiving, infuriating smile. “But I shall learn from her. Love should be broadening. I know she will break my heart. That is a foregone conclusion. Such women can never belong to one man—but I shall be a better man for it. What do a couple of thousand pounds matter? I was never greedy of filthy lucre. Loving her will be an education.”
    “You’re raving like a lunatic. I think you’ve lost the use of your wits.”
    “Drunk on love! I shall follow where my heart takes me, though the devil lead the measure. I always feared, you know, that I would never experience a truly grand passion, of the sort that made Dante and Beatrice immortal. I have had dealings with countless ladies and other... er, females, but never before felt this trembling in the blood, this deep oneness, this touch, almost, of the infinite when I gazed into her eyes. Oddly, the French do not have a word for it, do they?”
    “The English have. Folly.”
    “No, that does not begin to do my feelings justice. It is the divine Goethe to whom we must turn. Sturm und Drang! There is Sturm und Drang in my heart, stolen from her eyes. Say what you like, it is the Germans who take