Page:Restless Earth.djvu/57

“We’ll see if I cook them as well as Grace does,” Patricia said, reading his thoughts in one swift glance.

She smiled enigmatically, and he looked at her profile suspiciously.

“Why did you say that?” he asked quietly.

“Why do I say anything?” she countered lightly, as she sliced the tomatoes skilfully. “Good heavens, man!” she added, turning to him sharply. “You don’t suppose I’m so hardened that I can stand here in Grace’s place and not think of her?”

Harley turned to the door with a weary movement.

“Please, Pat! We’ve done all the necessary thinking about Grace. She wasn’t compelled to go. She went of her own free will. You have every right to be here if you want to be here. How long before those things are cooked?”

“About five minutes. You had better furbish up a little.”

Harley felt his spirits rise immediately at the proprietory command.

“A good idea,” he agreed. “Could I have, say, ten minutes?”

“Yes. But no longer.”

“Ten will be long enough.”

As he entered the breakfast-room its cleanliness seemed to hithim painfully. He crossed to the mantelpiece and drummed upon it with his fingers as he gazed around. Fresh blooms had replaced the dead stalks in the vases on the tables and the mantel; the dust had vanished from the furniture and the door ledges; the clean smell of floor polish insisted on being noticed. Everything as it had been with Grace.

He wondered what Grace was doing at the moment. Having dinner at the Masonic in Napier, he supposed.

Oh, well———!

He went into the bedroom—the room he had occupied with Grace, but which he had lately de-