“Thank you, Lee,” he said, very quietly, and the boy much relieved, but not at all embarrassed, disappeared inside.
The two men looked at one another for a minute.
“I say, Carr, whatever you may have come to say to me, I’ll thank you not to insult my servants.” His cool voice still further irritated his visitor.
“Damn it, Barrington, he had the cheek to threaten me with those dogs.”
“I told him to, but without knowing who it was who had come past the notice on my gate. I don’t allow people in here unless I ask them. But I’m not in hiding, and if you had let me know you were coming I should have come down for you in my launch.”
“Oh, you would, would you?” Davenport Carr struggled for control. He knew it was useless to be angry, but something about Dane’s manner nettled him, threw him into the wrong mood for this interview.
“Why, certainly. May I ask why you doubt it? And will you please come in.”
Carr followed him. He was vaguely aware of the atmosphere of the study he was passing through, and more vividly aware of the peace and comfort of the verandah, the beauty of the shrubs and bush heavy with the sensuousness of the afternoon warmth, the panel of sunny river framed in the leafy ravine, and the curiosity of a fantail that flitted about the verandah posts.
He had an unpleasant feeling even then that he was in the wrong, that he should never have come. The quiet assurance with which Dane indicated a chair was not lost upon him. But he made no move to take it.
“Look here, Barrington, I’ve come to talk plainly to you.”
“I understand that. And since you have chosen to
