Not that she would under any circumstances have
recalled that thrust of hers. She felt it had been dealt in fair
fight; but even in fair fight there come sometimes moments of regret,
when one feels that the enemy's hand has been intentionally slack. She
knew well that, had he chosen, Nick might have thrust back, instantly
and disconcertingly, as his manner was. But he had refrained, merely
covering up his wound--if wound there had been--with the laugh that
had so wrung Olga's loving heart. His ways were strange. She would
never understand him. But she would like to have known how deep that
thrust had gone.
Could she have overheard the conversation between Nick and his
remaining guest that followed her departure, she might have received
enlightenment on this point, but Nick took very good care to ensure
that that conversation should be overheard by none.
As soon as Grange had finished his coffee, he proposed a move to the
library, and led the way thither, leaving his own drink untouched
behind him.
The library was a large and comfortable apartment completely shut
away from the rest of the house, and singularly ill-adapted for
eavesdroppers. The windows looked upon a wide stretch of lawn upon
which even a bird could scarcely have lingered unnoticed. The light
that filtered in through green sun-blinds was cool and restful.
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