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before Mcgrath could reply. He handed Ellie a tall glass, frosted with cold, as he continued smoothly, "Six Cavaliers, fleeing Cromwell--or was it Cumberland the Butcher?--who settled in this peaceful valley. I'm going to write a book about it someday. One of those decadent Southern novels that are all the rage. You know, miscegenation and incest and rape and other popular subjects."
64 Elizabeth Peters The doctor's smiling glance at Ellie was casual, but for some queer reason she already felt as if she could read his mind. He and Donald were trying to keep Mcgrath off the subject of politics; now it was her turn to contribute a distraction. Valiantly she plunged in.
"How interesting! You know, I found a book about the county in a secondhand bookstore. I brought it for Kate as a housegift."
"What book is that?" Mcgrath asked sharply.
Ellie told him.
"Oh, yes," Mcgrath said. "The local library has a copy. I believe it is quite a rare book."
"That's what Ted said." Ellie added, smiling, "He also said it was a pack of lies."
A spark of anger flared in Mcgrath's pale eyes; for an instant they looked red instead of blue, and once again Ellie was struck by that jab of familiarity.
Once again she failed to pin it down.
"Ted!" Mcgrath snorted. "He ought to know about lies. Perverted, sick, disgusting--"
"That's enough, Roger," the doctor said. His voice was quiet, but it held a note that stopped Mcgrath's tirade.
The man was quivering with genuine indignation.
Ellie could understand why he and Kate didn't get along. Kate could never resist the temptation to jab pins in pompous, inflated egos. Yes, Ellie thought, as she studied Mcgrath's twitching moustache--the temptation is almost irresistible.
"Ted told me one strange story," she said innocently.
"You mean that was a lie? About his ancestor who ran off with the wife of some local dignitary, and they found the bodies the following spring?"
Donald gurgled into his glass and tried, unsuccessfully, to turn the sound into a cough. Mcgrath turned crimson.
"Is he spreading that outrageous story again? I DEWLM^y-CARE 65
told you, Doctor, he is out to destroy me. Such incredible malice--"
"Now how could that story harm you?" the doctor broke in. "True or not, it happened a century ago.
Really, Roger, nobody cares any longer."
"Of course they care!" Mcgrath's voice rose a full octave. "I tell you, Doctor, I shall sue if Ted continues this sort of thing. I won't have my family traduced, insulted--"
Donald rose to his feet with a cry of alarm. Even Mcgrath was silenced, and all eyes turned toward Donald.
"My casserole," Donald exclaimed, in a dreadfully accurate imitation of Mcgrath's squeak. "It will be ruined. I do hate to end this fascinating conversation, but I cannot see my beautiful casserole overdone --burned, perhaps! Roger, you will excuse us?"
Not even Mcgrath could ignore the directness of the hint. He rose to his feet; with a visible effort, he summoned up his most engaging smile and turned it on Ellie.
"My dear wife's dinner will be ready, too. I must go. We'll talk again, my dear. I am sure you don't share the calloused indifference of the younger generation toward the vital issues that concern this nation.
The old-fashioned virtues that are, alas, dying amid a morass of apathy, sex, drugs, violence. But they are not yet moribund--no! I have dedicated myself to the task of reviving them--"
"You'll have to meet my fiance," Ellie said, without thinking. Then she added quickly, "No, Mr. Mcgrath, sorry; he doesn't live here either, he's a lawyer in Washington."
"My casserole," groaned Donald. His father took Mcgrath by the arm and led him out, still talking.
Donald dropped into a chair.
"That was a mistake," he said. "No, don't get up, love; we have plenty of time for another drink, un88 Elizabeth Peters contaminated by the taste oi Mcgrath. I had to think of something to get him out of here."
"What was a mistake?" Ellie demanded.
"Mentioning that you