While that was happening, most of the others had disappeared. Christopher Ambrey and Mrs. Fazackerly were with Sallie and some of the Kendals, but already the groups were breaking up into twos and threes.
Only Captain Patch and Mrs. Harter sat quite still, not very far from where I was, but a good deal removed from the others.
I could just hear the sound of his voice, and hers, as they spoke together.
Chapter Ten
Of course I thought about Mrs. Harter. She compelled one to think about her, even then. And I liked young Patch, too, and it seemed to me that he was heading straight for the rocks.
It was a very hot, still afternoon. Even the shadows of the beech trees were motionless and unflickering.
The servants had taken away the remains of the feast and the motor cars had been discreetly manœuvered to some invisible point on the horizon. By far the most sophisticated things within sight were the bridge players.
Nancy Fazackerly, coming toward me by herself, blended quite agreeably into the surrounding green, in her pale green linen frock with her ash-blonde hair uncovered.
I have known her nearly all her life, and, as one of the very few young women on earth whose society Claire could tolerate, she had spent quite a lot of time with us since her return to Cross Loman.
Doubts, however, had for some time been assailing me as to the security of that state of affairs, and something in her face as she sat down beside me brought all my misgivings into active life.