That will mean that Marker's letter was a
blind of some sort. He wanted to get you out of the way or something.
What will you do then? Come back here?"
"N--o," said Lewis hesitatingly. "I think Thwaite is good enough, and I
should be no manner of use. You and I will wait up there in the hills
on the off-chance of picking up some news. I swear I won't come back
here to hang about and try and discover things. It's enough to drive a
man crazy."
"It is rather a ghastly place. Wonder how the Logans thrive here. Odd
mixture this. Strauss and hill tribes not twenty miles apart."
Lewis laughed. "I think I prefer the hill tribes. I am not in the
humour for Strauss just now. I shall have to be off in an hour, so I am
going to change. See you to-morrow, old man."
George retired to the ballroom, where he had to endure the reproaches of
Mrs. Logan. He was an abstracted and silent partner, and in the
intervals of dancing he studied his cuff. Miss A talked to him of polo,
and Miss B of home; Miss C discovered that they had common friends, and
Miss D that she had known his sister. Miss E, who was more observant,
saw the cause of his distraction and asked, "What queer hieroglyphics
have you got on your cuff, Mr. Winterham?"
George looked down in a bewildered way at his sleeve. "Where on earth
have I been?" he asked in wonder. "That's the worst of being an
absent-minded fellow.
Pages:
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286