CHAPTER V
THE DESERT ROAD
"That is just where you make a mistake, my good Crowther. You're an awfully shrewd chap in some ways, but you understand women just about as thoroughly as I understand theology."
Piers clasped his hands behind his head, and regarded his friend affectionately.
"Do you think so?" said Crowther a little drily.
Piers laughed. "Now I've trodden on your pet corn. Bear up, old chap!
It'll soon be better."
Crowther's own face relaxed, but he did not look satisfied. "I'm not happy about you, my son," he said. "I think you've missed a big opportunity."
"You think wrong," said Piers, unmoved. "I couldn't possibly have stayed another hour. I was in a false position. So—poor girl!—was she. We buried the hatchet for the kiddie's sake, but it wasn't buried very deep. I did my best, and I think she did hers. But—even that last night—we kicked against it. There was no sense in pretending any longer. The game was up. So—I came away."
He uttered the last words nonchalantly; but if Crowther's knowledge of women was limited, he knew his own species very thoroughly, and he was not deceived.
"You didn't see her at all after the little girl died?" he asked.