JК
The English Assassin :: Silva Daniel
Страница: 205 из 209”
“I can’t take the time to go to London right now.”
“The Prince of Wales is going to make time to attend, but you’re too busy.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll never understand why you insist on allowing beautiful, talented women to slip through your fingers.”
“Who said I was going to do that?”
“You think she’s going to wait forever?”
“No, just until the swelling goes down.”
Shamron gave a dismissive wave of his thick hand. “You’re using your face as a convenient excuse not to see her. But I know the real reason. Life is for the living, Gabriel, and this pleasant little prison you’ve made for yourself is no life. It’s time for you to stop blaming yourself for what happened in Vienna. If you have to blame someone, blame me.”
“I’m not going to London looking like this.”
“If you won’t go to London, will you permit me to make another suggestion?”
Gabriel let out a long, exasperated breath. He had lost the will to resist him any longer.
“I’m listening,” he said.
49
CORSICA
THAT SAME AFTERNOON, the Englishman invited Anton Orsati up to his villa for lunch. It was gusty and cold-too cold to be outside on the terrace-so they ate at the kitchen table and discussed some mildly pressing matters concerning the company. Don Orsati had just won a contract to supply oil to a chain of two dozen bistros stretching from Nice to Normandy. Now an American import-export company wanted to introduce the oil to specialty shops in the United States. Demand was beginning to outpace supply. Orsati needed more land and more trees. But would the fruit stand up to his exacting standards? Would quality suffer with expansion? That was the question they debated throughout the meal.
After lunch, they settled next to the fire in the living room and drank red wine from an earthen pitcher. It was then that the Englishman confessed that he had acted with dishonor during the Rolfe affair.
Orsati poured himself some more of the wine and smiled. “When the signadora told me you came home from Venice without your talisman, I knew something out of the ordinary had taken place. What happened to it, by the way?”
“I gave it to Anna Rolfe.”
“How?”
The Englishman told him.
Orsati was impressed. “I’d say you won that confrontation on points. How did you get the blazer?”
“I borrowed it from a security guard at the scuola.
“I can’t take the time to go to London right now.”
“The Prince of Wales is going to make time to attend, but you’re too busy.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll never understand why you insist on allowing beautiful, talented women to slip through your fingers.”
“Who said I was going to do that?”
“You think she’s going to wait forever?”
“No, just until the swelling goes down.”
Shamron gave a dismissive wave of his thick hand. “You’re using your face as a convenient excuse not to see her. But I know the real reason. Life is for the living, Gabriel, and this pleasant little prison you’ve made for yourself is no life. It’s time for you to stop blaming yourself for what happened in Vienna. If you have to blame someone, blame me.”
“I’m not going to London looking like this.”
“If you won’t go to London, will you permit me to make another suggestion?”
Gabriel let out a long, exasperated breath. He had lost the will to resist him any longer.
“I’m listening,” he said.
49
CORSICA
THAT SAME AFTERNOON, the Englishman invited Anton Orsati up to his villa for lunch. It was gusty and cold-too cold to be outside on the terrace-so they ate at the kitchen table and discussed some mildly pressing matters concerning the company. Don Orsati had just won a contract to supply oil to a chain of two dozen bistros stretching from Nice to Normandy. Now an American import-export company wanted to introduce the oil to specialty shops in the United States. Demand was beginning to outpace supply. Orsati needed more land and more trees. But would the fruit stand up to his exacting standards? Would quality suffer with expansion? That was the question they debated throughout the meal.
After lunch, they settled next to the fire in the living room and drank red wine from an earthen pitcher. It was then that the Englishman confessed that he had acted with dishonor during the Rolfe affair.
Orsati poured himself some more of the wine and smiled. “When the signadora told me you came home from Venice without your talisman, I knew something out of the ordinary had taken place. What happened to it, by the way?”
“I gave it to Anna Rolfe.”
“How?”
The Englishman told him.
Orsati was impressed. “I’d say you won that confrontation on points. How did you get the blazer?”
“I borrowed it from a security guard at the scuola.