No woman has ever been looked at like
this. What can you see? Hatred I could understand. What is it you think
me capable of?"
"You are very extraordinary," murmured Lingard, who had regained his
self-possession before that outburst.
"Very well, and you are extraordinary, too. That's understood--here we
are both under that curse and having to face together whatever may turn
up. But who on earth could have sent you this writing?"
"Who?" repeated Lingard. "Why, that young fellow that blundered on my
brig in the dark, bringing a boatload of trouble alongside on that
quiet night in Carimata Straits. The darkest night I have ever known. An
accursed night."
Mrs. Travers bit her lip, waited a little, then asked quietly:
"What difficulty has he got into now?"
"Difficulty!" cried Lingard. "He is immensely pleased with himself, the
young fool. You know, when you sent him to talk to me that evening you
left the yacht, he came with a loaded pistol in his pocket. And now he
has gone and done it."
"Done it?" repeated Mrs. Travers blankly. "Done what?"
She snatched from Lingard's unresisting palm the sheet of paper. While
she was smoothing it Lingard moved round and stood close at her elbow.
She ran quickly over the first lines, then her eyes steadied. At the end
she drew a quick breath and looked up at Lingard.
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