Now that I
think of it, who in the devil is _he_! And why didn't Armitage call him
down there at the club? As I think over the whole business my mind grows
addled, and I feel as though I had been kicked by a horse."
* * * * *
Shirley laughed softly, keeping the note open before her and referring to
it musingly as she stirred her coffee. She could not answer any of Dick's
questions, but her interest in the contest between Armitage and Chauvenet
was intensified by this latest turn in the affair. She read for an hour
in the library, but the air was close, and she threw aside her book, drew
on a light coat and went out upon the veranda. A storm was stealing down
from the hills, and the fitful wind tasted of rain. She walked the length
of the veranda several times, then paused at the farther end of it, where
steps led out into the pergola. There was still a mist of starlight, and
she looked out upon the vague outlines of the garden with thoughts of its
needs and the gardener's work for the morrow. Then she was aware of a
light step far out in the pergola, and listened carelessly to mark it,
thinking it one of the house servants returning from a neighbor's; but
the sound was furtive, and as she waited it ceased abruptly.
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