“In the hotel lobby; she was on her way to the breakfast-room, I think.”
“And the other two?”
“Cumberleigh has gone to climb Qojogo with a sunrise party, and Wishart hasn’t turned out yet. Half of the time he is never visible before noon.”
“What did she say?”
“She asked first if I had heard of the accident in the tunnel last night.”
Once more David Vallory bent over the table and busied himself with the figure-making.
“You’ve heard of it, I suppose?” he offered, without looking up.
“Only in passing. The hotel clerk told me that a man was hurt; in one of the blasts, I think he said.”
David pushed his work aside as one who faces the guns only because he must. “Let’s go,” he consented shortly; and together they walked through the yard and climbed the ridge.
Miss Virginia was waiting on one of the porches when the pair crossed the painfully cared-for bit of greensward in front of the Inn. Oswald, telling himself that he had done his part, went on through to the breakfast-room, leaving David to fight his battle—if there were to be a battle—alone. The young woman’s first question was as direct as it was unexpected.