"
Sir Henry's frown grew a little deeper.
"What's the attraction?" he demanded.
Philippa smiled. It was the smile which those who knew her best,
feared.
"Well," she confided, "I used to imagine that it was Helen, but I
think that he has become a little bored, talking about nothing but
Dick and their college days. I am rather inclined to fancy that it
must be me."
"You, indeed!" he grunted. "Are you aware that you are a married
woman?"
Philippa glanced up from her work. Her eyebrows were raised, and
her expression was one of mild surprise.
"How queer that you should remind me of it!" she murmured. "I am
afraid that the sea air disturbs your memory."
Sir Henry rose abruptly to his feet.
"Oh, damn!" he exclaimed.
He walked to the door. His guests were still lingering over their
wine. He could hear their voices more distinctly than ever. Then
he came back to the sofa and stood by Philippa's side.
"Philippa, old girl," he pleaded, "don't let us quarrel. I have had
such a hard fortnight, a nor'easter blowing all the time, and the
dirtiest seas I've ever known at this time of the year. For five days
I hadn't a dry stitch on me, and it was touch and go more than once.
We were all in the water together, and there was a nasty green wave
that looked like a mountain overhead, and the side of our own boat
bending over us as though it meant to squeeze our ribs in.
Pages:
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110