The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

room announced her release. She got up at once and followed the crowd out to the lighted porch where everyone was stopping to gossip and enjoy the soft summer night.
    Fredericka stood for a moment, feeling alone in a crowd of strangers. She looked anxiously for Peter but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had to entertain the speaker. Well, there was nothing for it but to leave. She started slowly across the campus, feeling abandoned, and frightened at the prospect of returning alone to the book-shop, when a hand fell heavily on her shoulder. Startled, she turned to look up into the large red face of James Brewster. Her disappointment was acute.
    “The thing to do now,” he announced easily, “is to adjourn to the drug-store for an ice-cream soda. Personally I would prefer something a little stronger but we are in Rome, my dear Fredericka, and so we must be Romans.”
    “Must we?” Fredericka asked, and meant it.
    He took her arm. “We must, at any rate, make a pretence of doing so.”
    Fredericka decided that anything would be better than to return alone to her empty house. For this reason, she did not withdraw her arm as she longed to do, and they walked together down the dark street.
    “It’s no joke being the Sutton family lawyer,” Brewster said suddenly, but he spoke low and confidingly.
    Fredericka who had been avid for news all day was suddenly annoyed. She didn’t want to hear about the Suttons from James Brewster. She didn’t even want to think about them. But James went on without encouragement. “Shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but really Catherine’s affairs were in a shocking state. Wouldn’t wonder if she had decided to take a quick way out—”
    “Whatever do you mean?” Fredericka was now roused to sudden attention.
    “Nothing. Oh nothing really, of course. Philippine’s got the family in a much better state with her herb farm. Most remarkable woman. Forget what I said, my dear.” He squeezed her arm affectionately but Fredericka did not even notice. She was thinking of the conversation she had overheard in the inn on her first Sunday and of what Peter had told her of James’s admissions. James Brewster was suggesting that Catherine Clay had committed suicide. How convenient for him if he had indeed switched his affections from the glamorous Catherine to Philippine whom on Sunday he had called “good” and now thought “remarkable.”
    “I thought Mrs. Sutton had started the herb business before Philippine came,” Fredericka said quickly.
    “Yes, started , but she is old and really quite worn out. It certainly needed someone like Philippine—” He stopped in midsentence and turned toward Fredericka suddenly. She had walked on without noticing that the crowd had thinned: the white dresses had flashed away into the darkness and the chatter of voices and the sound of laughter had become spasmodic and remote. At the moment that James Brewster turned toward her and she felt his hot breath against her face, she knew that they were alone.
    Fredericka summoned all her strength and tried to push him away from her.
    “Come, Fredericka, you can’t mind a little affection—”
    He held her arms now and tried to pull her towards him. His voice was sensuous and persuasive.
    Fredericka felt trapped and desperately frightened. “Will you please let me go—at once” Was he trying to make love to her—this lecherous beast—or was he—? Oh dear God, was he going to kill her—? His grip tightened. “I shall scream.” She spat the words out in an agony of desperation.
    A step sounded behind them and James dropped his arms suddenly. “You must forgive me, Fredericka,” he said softly. “You are a most attractive woman. Perhaps—when you know me better—”
    The footsteps grew louder and a group of people came up from behind and passed them. Fredericka hurried to keep up with them. She could not speak. She wanted only to escape this great beast who was so near and so terrifying.
    They turned into the main street and, a moment later, stepped together into the glare of the neon-lighted drug store.
    “As I was saying,” James remarked calmly, “that business badly needed someone like Philippine. Oh, there she is now!”
    They had walked past the crowded tables and the rows of neat booths along the walls to the back of the large room where the soda fountain gleamed—a Victorian prop, resplendent in pink marble. Philippine, looking cool and fresh in a blue linen suit, was