Blindfold
“They were mostly from people who wanted him to dine with them or lunch with them. There was one from each of his aunts. There was one from the girl who had refused him three years before because, as she said, you really can’t live on six hundred a year. She was now married to something a good deal nearer six thousand. Her name was Angela, and she doesn’t come into this story.
Miles laughed and frowned a little. He would certainly dine with Angela. For the last two years and nine months approximately he had thought of her with relief and gratitude. She might have accepted him.
He took up the next letter, which was pale blue and of a heady fragrance. He was about ten years too old to be getting a letter like that, he reflected. He wondered who on earth. As he tore open the envelope, a golden forget-me-not winked at him from the top right-hand corner of the sheet inside. He unfolded it and read: “Dear Mr Miles.” It was Flossie.
“Dear Mr Miles, When we were talking I quite forgot there wa...s something I was going to tell you.MoreLess
Miles laughed and frowned a little. He would certainly dine with Angela. For the last two years and nine months approximately he had thought of her with relief and gratitude. She might have accepted him.
He took up the next letter, which was pale blue and of a heady fragrance. He was about ten years too old to be getting a letter like that, he reflected. He wondered who on earth. As he tore open the envelope, a golden forget-me-not winked at him from the top right-hand corner of the sheet inside. He unfolded it and read: “Dear Mr Miles.” It was Flossie.
“Dear Mr Miles, When we were talking I quite forgot there wa...s something I was going to tell you.MoreLess
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