Part 55 (1/2)
”Well, what is it?”
”What is Constantia teaching you?”
”Me again,” she returned with a show of indignation, ”why on earth should that worry you?”
”I don't like new facets to familiar diamonds,” he grumbled obscurely, ”you are getting too old. Patricia.”
”You are losing your manners.” But even under the banter the colour died from her face and her hand fell listlessly to her side.
”I won't allow you to be older than I am.”
She was saved further embarra.s.sment by Renata's entrance, but all dinner time she was conscious of his silent ”awareness” of her and was troubled by it, and it was a new and unpleasing sensation to be troubled by any att.i.tude of Christopher's. Then his scrutiny stopped abruptly as if she were suddenly placed outside his range of vision, and that att.i.tude suited her mind as poorly as the other.
She hardly knew if it were by her own will or Christopher's that she sat with him and Aymer that evening. She was quite powerless to resist the request that might have been a command, and there is some pain in life that we cling to, dreading its loss more acutely than its presence.
Mr. Aston was away, a rare occurrence now, and the three sat talking before the fire, till the dear familiar intercourse and the peace put to sleep the dull ache in Patricia's heart. They talked--or rather the men talked--of Christopher's latest experiences abroad. He had been to the scene of a vast tunnelling operation in which his part was to come later.
”They suggest we should take over their men's shanties as they stand.”
”Will you?” demanded Caesar. These things were in Christopher's hands.
”They might serve as material,” he answered drily. ”Two of their overseers and twenty men asked for berths with me. They are mostly Italians. If we keep them to make our encampment, I shall have to go myself. It is rather odd how these men pick things up. I heard----” he broke off abruptly.
”We didn't,” remarked Caesar suggestively after a minute.
”It was not much, but it is funny how a nick-name travels. There were about five hundred men there still, and I heard one say as I pa.s.sed, 'Ecco il 'Roadmaker.''”
He was evidently boyishly pleased at the recognition, though he did not conclude the sentence. The man had saluted him as he added to his comrade, ”C'e un maestro d'uomini, non di brutti.”
Patricia gave Caesar a quick look and caught his answer. It was as if some sudden bond of sympathy were tied between them.
Caesar continued skilfully to ply Christopher with questions and extracted the information that the Patrimondi Company was much disliked by the big manufacturing powers.
”They say we spoil our men, and their own grumble. They sent me a deputation to ask us to cancel the Sunday holiday, which they never grant on contract work, and they feared the result of our example.”
”And you politely agreed?” suggested Caesar, watching Patricia.
”I told them to----” again he stopped and laughed; ”well, Patricia, I told them such was the time-honoured custom of my country and regretted my inability to consider their request.”
”I expect they only get into mischief on Sunday.”
Caesar flung out this with a.s.sumed contempt, but it brought no quick retort. Christopher answered slowly, with his eyes on the fire.
”We plan excursions for them when there is anything to see or amus.e.m.e.nts of some kind. They are like children. If they are not amused they must needs make mischief.”
His voice was rather grave and Aymer knew there must have been difficulties here of which he did not mean to speak openly.
”It is deplorable if our Roadmaker is going about destroying other people's comfortable paths. Don't you agree with me, Patricia?”