Now you know all
I know, and as I'm not wanted anywhere, I'll go. I assure you I'm very
glad to."
I was not speaking the strictest truth, but I saw no reason to pour out
Madame Mauer's revelations just then upon Stires's heated soul. Nor would
I pursue the subject of Follet.
Stires sank down on something that had once been an office-chair. Thence
he glowered at me. I had no mind to endure his misdirected anger, and I
turned to go. But in the very instant of my turning from him I saw
tragedy pierce through the mask of rage. The man was suffering; he could
no longer hold his eyes and lips to the expression of anger. I spoke to
him very gently.
"Has Miss Eva really anything to fear from that miserable Chinaman?"
Stires bowed his head on his hands. "Not a thing, now. He's done his
damnedest. It only took a minute for him to spit it out."
"Will he spit it out to Follet?"
"You bet he will. But I've got a kind of a hunch Follet knew all along."
"I'm sure he didn't--whatever it is."
"Well, he does by now. They must be nearly back to the ho-tel. I'm kind
of busy this morning"--he waved his hand round that idle scene--"and I
guess--"
"Certainly. I'm going now." I spared him the effort of polishing off his
lie. The man wanted to be alone with his trouble, and that was a state
of mind I understood only too well.
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