“Yes, lots!” Terry exclaimed. “He was furious when he saw her, and Tania was wild.”
“Who was furious—what about?” Sim wanted to know.
“Dimitri, stupid,” Terry went on. “When he saw whom I had in the boat I never saw a man look so mad.”
“What did he do?” Arden asked with great interest and hopeful expectancy.
“Oh, he was polite enough in a cold way,” Terry told them with a show of relish. “He tied up Tania and said he didn’t know whether or not to thank me. I heard him call her ‘Olga.’ When I left they were jabbering away as though they were mad at each other. Talking Russian, I guess,” Terry said rapidly. The sudden appearance of the spectacular woman had given them more excitement than mere words might explain.
“Why do you suppose she didn’t want to go through the village?” Sim inquired cannily.
“It looks to me as if she didn’t want to be seen,” Arden ventured.
“She seemed to know the artist pretty well,” Terry resumed. “She spoke as if it was queer that he should live in the houseboat.”
“Let’s go back to the house, the mosquitoes are beginning to bite,” Sim said, slapping her stockingless leg. “We can talk better there, anyway. Our voices might carry over the water.”
They all agreed this was a good plan and scrambled out of the boat. Terry tied it up and took the oars, and they went back to the porch.