Free The Unfinished Clue by Georgette Heyer Page B

that I should sleep when cocks are permitted to crow all night. It is a thing that I find very badly arranged, quite insupportable."
    "Darling!" Geoffrey said, trying to seine her hands. "I ought never to have brought you! But you shan't spend another moment in this house. I'm going to take you away at once, my poor angel!"
    "But what are you talking about? It's not at all sensible. Naturally I shall spend a great many moments in this house, for I am not dressed yet, and besides, I do not go away until I have eaten lunch," said Lola, always practical.
    "I know a little place on the road to town where we can lunch," began Geoffrey.
    "I, too," said Lola coldly. "I prefer that I should eat my lunch here."
    "I won't eat another meal in this house! I couldn't!" said Geoffrey, with suppressed violence. "I may as well tell you, Lola, that I've had the hell of a row with Father. In fact, it's all over between us two, and I hope I never set eyes on him again!"
    Miss de Silva regarded him with sudden suspicion. "What is this you are saying?" she demanded. "But tell me at once, if you please, for I do not at all understand you!"
    "We've quarrelled - irrevocably!" announced Geoffrey, giving a somewhat inaccurate description of the onesided scene enacted in the study at half past nine. "Of course it was bound to come. We're oil and water. I've always known it. Only I did think that Father -"
    Miss de Silva sat up. "You are talking quite ridiculously, my dear Geoffrey. It is not oil and water, but, on the contrary, oil and vinegar. I am not so ignorant that I do not know that. But I do not see why you must quarrel with your papa for such a stupid reason, which I find is not a reason at all, in fact, but a great piece of folly."
    "You don't understand, darling. I said we were oil and water - not vinegar. It's an expression - an idiom."
    "It is entirely without sense," replied Lola scornfully.
    "It means we don't mix. Well, anyway, it's just a saying. It doesn't really matter. The point is that Father's behaving like an absolute cad. Simply because you're a professional dancer he's trying to do everything he can to stop us being married. I simply hate telling you this, darling, because I'd die sooner than let you be hurt. But there it is. He's one of those hide-bound, utterly disgusting Victorians. One simply can't argue with him. He's always hated me. I expect it's because of my mother. She ran off with some other man when I was a kid. I don't really know much about it, but I believe there was a perfectly ghastly scandal at the time. Anyway, Father's been an absolute beast to me all my life - it's a pity he didn't have Francis for a son, though as a matter of fact he wouldn't think so jolly well of him if he knew some of the things Iknow about him - and this is just the last straw. Because nothing would induce me to give you up. He needn't think I care about his filthy money. Money simply means nothing to me, and in any case I happen to be able to write, and though he chooses to sneer at my work there are other people who know far more about it than he does who think I'm going to go a long way. I couldn't help smiling when he talked about me starving in the gutter for all he cared. Of course he'd never believe that anyone could make any money by writing, but he'll just see, that's all!"
    Lola, who had listened to this rambling speech in complete and unusual silence, relaxed once more on to her bank of pillows, and said in a thoughtful voice: "It is true that your papa is a character extremely difficult, not at all sympathetic. It will be better perhaps if I do not marry you."
    Geoffrey stared down at her, startled and incredulous. "Lola! You can't think that I'd give you up! Good God, I'm mad about you! I adore you!"
    "It is very sad," agreed Lola. "I myself am quite in despair. But it is not sense to marry if you have no money. One must think of these things, though certainly it is very disagreeable."
    He snatched at her wrists. "Lola, you