Any Shape or Form Read Online Free

oddly with the stare of the pale eyes and the slightly mad effect of the fillet and the robe. But they, of course, might be ritual—appropriate to somebody’s idea of a cult of the sun.
    Redfield said: “Gamadge is here by the happiest chance, Aunt. In these difficult times he doesn’t look in on us often.”
    â€œI’m delighted to meet Miss Ryder’s nephew,” said Vega. “Or cousin—cousin, of course. Have you met my stepchildren?”
    Gamadge said he hadn’t as yet had the pleasure. “Cora, this is Mr. Gamadge, Mr. Gamadge, David Malcolm.”
    Gamadge exchanged bows with the young Malcolms, and shook hands with Drummond. Chairs were pulled up; Gamadge found himself between the sun worshiper and Redfield. The twins sat quietly, shoulder to shoulder, gazing at Vega with a kind of innocent wonder; but Gamadge had seldom seen two people who looked more alert and wary.
    â€œDid you know that it’s our first meeting, Mr. Gamadge?” asked Vega, swinging a sandaled foot. “Our very first! These dear children have been living abroad, you know, or did live abroad until the war drove them home three years ago. And I have been living very quietly in Pasadena; more and more I hate to leave my peaceful, sun-drenched home! And when the rains do come, I go to the desert. But it couldn’t go on forever, you know—our not coming together. Now it’s all going to be different. We shall meet often. If I’m able I shall come East every summer.”
    â€œAble?” protested Redfield. “Of course you’ll be able.”
    â€œI mean if I’m still on earth in this shape,” said Vega, smiling brightly at him. “In this vesture of decay, you know.”
    Cora Malcolm was leaning forward, her hands clasped around her crossed knee, her eyes fixed on the speaker. Her brother’s hand was along the back of the settee. He tapped her shoulder lightly, as he said in the low, unaccented monotone that both the twins affected: “I don’t quite follow the trend of the idea, Mrs. Malcolm.”
    â€œVega, my dearest boy. Call me Vega.”
    â€œI must remember. What I mean is, we should expect to find the old symbols—of fertility, of revival—in any cult of the sun. What dies in the autumn comes up in the spring. But slowly, if surely! Gradually and chemically.”
    â€œOr botanically,” said Cora.
    â€œOr botanically. But you almost seem to imply, Mrs. Malcolm—excuse me, I can’t get used to it yet—that in your case you expect the translation to be immediate, quasi-miraculous. The quite different symbolism of the butterfly and the cocoon.”
    â€œI do mean that,” said Vega, complacently. Though Redfield moved in his chair, and even Walter Drummond shuffled his feet, she had not seemed to notice that she was being made fun of. “I do mean it,” she repeated. “But you mustn’t inquire too closely into the mysteries, dear boy. You wouldn’t understand.”
    Redfield said gaily: “Dearest Aunt, I preferred the stars! The stars were confusing enough, but at least seemed to be definite about what was going to happen to us.”
    â€œI really prefer Calvin to the stars,” said David Malcolm, his dark eyes turning to Redfield. “I’d rather be predestined by Calvin than by the stars.”
    â€œBut the stars,” said Cora, “let us alone after we die. Don’t they?”
    Vega wore an expression vague but tolerant. Gamadge wondered why she put up with the twins, why they risked losing the increase in their allowance by their recklessness. Or had they gauged, as they thought, her silliness, and decided that open mockery would be safe? Looking again at that cold, canny face, he was more than ever certain that its owner was credulous—even perhaps a little crazy—on one subject and one alone. Like those big business men.
    And he reflected that