"I am riding," she murmured almost inaudibly.
"In this heat?" groaned her father.
"In this heat," echoed Eve Edgarton.
"There will surely be a thunder-storm," protested her father.
"There will surely be a thunder-storm," acquiesced Eve Edgarton.
Without further parleying she turned and strolled off again.
Just for an instant the Older Man's glance followed her. Just for an instant with quizzically twisted eyebrows his glance flashed back sardonically to Barton's suffering face. Then very leisurely he began to laugh again.
But right in the middle of the laugh—as if something infinitely funnier than a joke had smitten him suddenly—he stopped short, with one eyebrow stranded half-way up his forehead.
"Eve!" he called sharply. "Eve! Come back here a minute!"
Very laggingly from around the piazza corner the girl reappeared.