"What you don't seem to learn," said Dinah, "is a little ordinary sense. It's just dam' silliness to come and stay here. All it does is to make you want to take Arthur into a wide, open space and knock his teeth down his throat. I know."
Stephen Guest's large,, capable hands clenched slowly. "By God, it does!" he said, and drew a long breath.
"Well, you can't go knocking people's teeth out when they're as old as Arthur," Dinah pointed out.
"I don't know that that would worry me a lot," replied Guest. "It wouldn't take much from him to make me see red."
"Then you jolly well oughtn't to come here."
"Fay wanted me," he said.
"Your job," said Dinah, "is to make Fay want you much more than that. I've been advising her to run away with you."
He reddened under his tan, and said gruffly: "You're a good sort, Dinah. She won't, though."
"No, not while she can get you to come down here every time she feels like it."
Stephen Guest considered this. "I see," he said presently. "Thanks for the advice. Don't know that I shall take it." He paused under an arbour, and frowningly regarded a cluster of pink blooms. "Ever seen Lola de Silva?"