Part 28 (1/2)

She looked at him, unsmiling, eye to eye like a man; but she looked from under a fantastic and exceedingly becoming little hat, swathed all about with a wholly fascinating gray veil. Her skin was of an exquisite freshness, which threw into sharp relief the vivid coloring of her lips; the modeling of her cheek and throat was consummate, beyond improvement; and her eyes--he told himself that they could have no match anywhere.

Varney laughed shortly. ”I am not to go out with Maginnis. I am not to go out without him. May I ask if I am expected to spend thnight prudently curled up under the office table here?”

The situation was odious to him; he knew that his manner betrayed it; but if she was aware of this she gave no sign. On the contrary her face all at once became miraculously sweet.

”You aren't thinking that there's any question of courage mixed up in this, Mr. Varney? Indeed, indeed, there is not. They would fight in the dark; they would fight from behind. The very _bravest_ men would have no chance, and very brave men don't take foolish risks, do they? I know by Mr. Hare. Mr. Varney, I have a little plan.”

”Indeed? Do tell me.”

”Our car is at the door, you know--Mr. Richards's car. We'd both like it very much if you would come with us.”

”Where?”

”Well--I thought that perhaps you'd come to my house. Only to get rid of these men and not to--get them into any trouble. Of course, no one in Hunston would annoy you when you were with me.”

If he had hated the thought of accepting protection from Mary Carstairs less intensely, he might have laughed aloud. As Higginson's catspaw, she was certainly the most screaming failure that the whole world could have yielded. What, oh what, would the old gum-shoe have said if he could have heard that invitation?

”Thank you, but that is quite impossible.”

”I am awfully sorry.”

There was a faint stiffening in her manner. She began to draw on her right glove, slowly tucking out of sight the thumb with the tiny white spot on the nail.

”I hoped that perhaps you might come to dinner with us. I haven't had any yet. May I--suggest another way out of all this, then? There is a back gate to this place, leading into a kind of alley, you know. I am sure that they--these poor men--haven't thought of that. Couldn't you please go out--”

”Certainly,” said Varney. ”Certainly. Yes, indeed. I'll do anything--anything in the wide world to avoid getting thumped on the head with Mr. Hackley's walking-stick.”

Her face told him that she found his tone and manner somewhat disconcerting, but she took no notice of it otherwise.

”I hope it won't be necessary to do anything more than that. But if it should be, I hope you'll do it. I'm afraid I've failed to make you see that this is really serious. Good-night.”

But Varney, having a question to ask her, could not let her go yet.

”But--but,” he said, hastily, ”you must allow me to thank you--you and Mr. Higginson--”

”The thanks are all Mr. Higginson's. I'm only a messenger--and besides, you aren't grateful at all, you know! You think we've all been _extremely_ intrusive!” She smiled brightly, bowed, and then was suddenly checked by a new thought. ”Oh--I wonder if you would tell me something before I go?”

”By all means,” said Varney, having no idea whether he would or not.

But the loud jangling whir of a telephone bell from the adjoining room cut into the air, drowning out conversation; and it rang on and on and on as though Central had had her orders.

”I suppose I'll have to answer that to shut them up,” he said. ”Excuse me for the merest second, won't you?”

He pa.s.sed through into the brightly-lit business office beyond, and found the telephone, still ringing away on a desk at the farther end.

Behind him the door swung shut, a circ.u.mstance for which he later had reason to be glad.

”Well?” he called impatiently.

”You, Larry?” asked a familiar voice.

”Yes. What's the matter?”