Howat rose and went into the house. It was indecent to see a
countenance so wearily unguarded, shorn of all protective aggression.
Mariana walked in unannounced.
"Why didn't you telephone for Honduras?" he complained. "Always some
infernal difference in what you do." She frowned. "Suddenly," she
admitted, "I wasn't in a hurry to get here. I almost went back.
Idiotic."
"Sensible, it seems to me," he commented. "That Polder is asleep on the
porch." She nodded, "Splendid. And you needn't try to look fierce. I can
see through you and out the back." He lit a cigarette angrily. "Going to
stay for the night?" he demanded. "Several," she replied coolly. "Three
can play sniff."
"Look here, Mariana," he proclaimed, "I won't have any nonsense, do you
understand?"
"We can keep a photograph of Harriet on the table."
James Polder entered, and put a temporary end to his determined speech.
When the former saw Mariana his shameless pleasure, Howat thought, was
beyond credence. Positively neither of them paid any more attention to
him than they did to Rudolph. His irritation gave place to a deeper
realization that an impossible situation threatened. There was nothing,
obviously, that he could do to-day; but he would speak seriously to
Mariana to-morrow; one or both of them would have to leave Shadrach.
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