“I sincerely wish that he had not gone,” said the Resident; “but Doctor Bolter’s ardent love of natural history and his belief in discovery must be his excuses for a great deal.”
“Yes, yes, I know!” cried the little woman excitedly; and a severe mental struggle was evidently going on to keep back something upon her mind. But it was all in vain. The passionate feeling of jealousy that had been lit by the foolish tongue of the woman who had been constantly coming in and harping upon the theme, now began to glow, and in spite of her efforts the anger fanned the flame, till, in a gust of passion that made her cheeks burn with shame for her question, she turned suddenly upon the Resident.
“I know it is a shame and a sin to say such a thing, but I can’t help it now. I think it’s your hot climate here has changed me, and made me what I am—but you are going up the river on this expedition Mr Harley?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Will you wait for him?”
“For the doctor? I’m afraid we must not wait much longer.”
“Then will you go to that woman’s as you pass up the river, and make a thorough search? I’m ashamed to say it, but I feel perfectly sure that Doctor Bolter is there.”
“Where? At the Inche Maida’s?” said the Resident, wonderingly.
“Yes. I am sure he is there.”
“And I am certain that he is not!” cried Hilton, so warmly that the Resident glanced at him.