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4.3
88 reviews“Jack you’re infernally lazy.” Florence Rackstraw, hands on narrow hips, looked at Inskipp with an air of impatience. “Come along. The walk back will do you good.”
It was now nearly five o’clock.
“I don’t need to be done good to,” murmured Inskipp, his felt hat tilted over his eyes. “I’m perfect.”
“Same here,” said Elsie Cameron drowsily. She was seated on the rocks beside him. “Don’t let us keep you, Florence.”
Florence shot Inskipp an angry look. He caught it and closed his eyes promptly. Her brother joined the little group of three on the Menton promenade.
“Well, haven’t we dallied long enough in Babylon?” he asked, shifting a handful of stones to another pocket.
“In Bosio, you mean,” chaffed Elsie. Honoré Bosio keeps the best cake shop in Menton, and the Rackstraws loved a good feed.
“Shake a leg, Inskipp,” adjured Rackstraw. “I want to discuss an episode in Haroun with you.”
Inskipp yawned. The two were writing a scenario. They were to share the profits of the film between them, and each talked as though they had a gold mine under their hats.
“Haroun is tired,” announced Inskipp firmly. “Very tired. He won’t be at home to visitors until tomorrow. Besides, Elsie and I are going to drive up to the farm with Norbury.”