“Hairpins,” laughed Linda, “and hair ornaments, and a box of face powder, and the little, feminine touches that my dressing table needs badly. How would you like, Peter, to finish your cigar in my workroom?”
“I would like it immensely,” said Peter.
So together they climbed to the top of the house. Linda knelt and made a little ceremony of lighting the first fire in her fireplace. She pushed one of her chairs to one side for Peter, and taking the other for herself, she sat down and began the process of really becoming acquainted with him. Two hours later, as he was leaving her, Peter made a circuit of the room, scrutinizing the sketches and paintings that were rapidly covering the walls, and presently he came to the wasp. He looked at it so closely that he did not miss even the stinger. Linda stood beside him when he made his first dazed comment: “If that isn’t Eileen, and true to the life!”
“I must take that down,” said Linda. “I did it one night when my heart was full of bitterness.”
“Better leave it,” said Peter drily.
“Do you think I need it as a warning?” asked Linda.
Peter turned and surveyed her slowly.
“Linda,” he said quietly, “what I think of you has not yet been written in any of the books.”
CHAPTER XXV
Buena Moza