The Hunter and the Trapped Read Online Free Page A

left.”
    â€œGood for you.”
    â€œNot at all good for me. He was worth a great deal of excellent information, delightful talk and splendid food. I shall miss him a lot.”
    George got up from the table and while Mrs. Tranter cleared it and brought coffee he got out brandy and poured a generous tot for Simon and a small one for himself.
    Simon was leaning against the mantelpiece as George went up to him. He put out a sly foot to trip his host, but George was prepared. He managed to avoid the snare, got the brandy glass safely bestowed and turned to exact revenge.
    â€œLike a pair of schoolboys,” Mrs. Tranter reported to her niece when she got home that night. “At their age, gone thirty the both of them. Scrapping on the floor like a pair of silly teenagers. No harm in it, of course. Mr. Clark’s a very nice gentleman and serious too, in the ordinary way. It never comes over him but when Mr. Fawcett’s in the house.”
    A little breathless from their exertions both men soon gave up, scrambled to their feet and sat down, hot and breathless, to sip the scalding coffee. George, who never got over his surprise at Simon’s hidden strength, stared at his friend. His thoughts, less tolerant now, for he had suffered a mildly strained wrist, returned to Simon’s latest preposterous anecdote. Was it true? Quite possibly. Equally, it might be an invention. Simon’s vanity was immense and totally unselfconscious. It was constantly fed by these day-dreams, these scurrilous fantasies. And yet –
    â€œSo your latest doubtful friendship has gone the way of the rest?” he said. “I’m surprised at …”
    â€œNo names,” Simon interrupted, in a low voice, with a glance at the door.
    â€œShe can’t hear and wouldn’t take it in if she did.”
    â€œI wouldn’t rely on that.”
    â€œAnyway, the affair is over?”
    â€œThere was no affair, but yes, it is over. No damage on either side. Just a pity, from my point of view.”
    â€œYou’re very quick to brush off other people’s feelings, aren’t you?”
    Simon frowned.
    â€œI grant you this man is not likely to suffer much from your refusal,” George went on. “He must have other resources. He is experienced and wealthy. I’ve no sympathy for him, certainly no pity. But I think you should stop leading people up the garden. As much for your own sake as theirs.”
    As Simon stared at him George saw the shutter come down. A moment before his friend was looking at him with an amused, boyish, slightly cynical expression. Now a stranger regarded him from eyes sullen, withdrawn and coldly hostile. The man behind these different eyes, behind the shutter, was a secret unknown being.
    â€œI don’t mean to needle you,” George persisted, knowing he spoke against his own better judgment and quite uselessly. “I just can’t help remembering that boy a couple of years ago. The one who emigrated suddenly in his last year without taking his degree.”
    â€œWhat of him?” asked Simon, the stranger, calmly.
    â€œWell, you certainly did harm to him.”
    â€œI refused to have sexual relations with him. Was that harmful? Was that immoral? Should I have indulged his unnatural feelings? Laid us both open to criminal proceedings? My dear George, where is your common sense?”
    â€œYou should have seen what he was like at the beginning. You should have put him off from the start.”
    Simon did not bother to answer. He simply gazed at the wall behind George’s shoulder.
    â€œI wish I had made you tell me his name,” George went on, more to himself than to the other.
    â€œSo that you could interfere?” Simon asked, coldly.
    â€œSo that I could perhaps have shown him he was not to blame or not deficient or merely unfortunate. So that I could have explained to him how lightly these things affect