"If I had
thought he could annoy her, I'd have been over there myself a short time
ago. If he really annoyed French Eva any day, he'd be nothing but a neat
pattern of perforations, and he knows it."
"Then what has the oldest inhabitant guessed as to the cause of the
quarrel?" I persisted. Since I was in it--well, I hate talk that runs in
circles.
"She hasn't honored me with her confidence. But, for a guess, I should
say that in the happy time now past he had perhaps asked her to marry
him. And--Naapu isn't Europe, but, you know, even here a lady might
resent that."
"But why does she let him into her house?"
"That I can't tell you. But I can almost imagine being afraid of Ching
Po myself."
"Why don't you settle it up, one way or the other?" I _was_ a newcomer,
you see.
Follet laughed and took another cigarette. "We do very well as we are, I
think. And I expect to go to Auckland next year." His voice trailed off
fatuously in a cloud of smoke, and I knew then just why I disliked him.
The fibre was rotten. You couldn't even hang yourself with it.
I was destined to keep open house that day. Before Follet's last
smoke-puff had quite slid through the open window, Madame Mauer, who was
perpetually in mourning, literally darkened my doorway. Seeing Follet
she became nervous--he did affect women, as I have said.
Pages:
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257