Part 38 (1/2)

Second String Anthony Hope 34720K 2022-07-22

”I'd never thought of that. Do you feel sure of it?”

”You have thought of the other thing--and you're sure of that?”

”You know Harry. I hoped it would all--all come to nothing. How much do you think Wellgood knows, or suspects?”

”Hard to say. I think he's groping in the dark. He's had a check, I expect, or a set-back. Men always think that's due to another man--I suppose it generally is. Well, it's not you, and it's not Billy. Who else sees her--who else goes to Nutley?”

”But he'd never suspect his own daughter's--”

”You do!”

”I had the evidence of my eyes.”

”Jealousy's quicker than the eyes, Andy.” She leant forward again. ”What did you see?”

”It seems disloyal to tell--disloyal to Harry.”

”My loyalty's for Vivien!” she said. ”What about yours?”

”Take it that what I saw justifies your fears about Harry,” said Andy slowly. ”I think--I'm not sure--I think he suspects I saw. I don't know whether she does.” He was not aware that Isobel had made herself quite certain of his knowledge. ”But it's nearly a month ago. You know Harry.

I hoped it was all over. Only he seemed a little--queer.”

”'Come and spend a quiet afternoon in the garden'--that was her invitation. Poor girl!”

”That's what you called her the first time I told you of their engagement.”

”A nice quiet afternoon--sitting on the top of a volcano! With an eruption overdue!”

”It isn't possible to feel quite comfortable about it, is it?” said Andy.

The Nun laughed a little scornfully. ”Not quite. Going to do anything about it?”

Andy raised his eyes to hers. ”I owe almost everything I value most in the world to Harry, directly or indirectly; even what I owe to you and Jack came in a way through him.”

”And he's never taken ten minutes' real trouble about you in his life.”

”I'm not sure that makes any difference--even if it's true. He stands for all those things to me. As for Miss Vintry--” He shrugged his ponderous shoulders.

”Oh, by all means to blazes with Miss Vintry!” the Nun agreed pleasantly.

Miss Dutton put her head in at the door--her hair about her shoulders.

”Ever coming to bed?”

”Not yet. I'm talking to Andy. Don't you see him, Sally?”

”It's not respectable.”

”The window's open, there's a street lamp opposite, and a policeman standing under it. Good-night.”

”Well, don't come into my room and wake me up jawing.” Miss Dutton withdrew.