“Then it looks as if he believed we were dangerous people for you to associate with,” Kenwardine remarked, with a smile. “Well, I suppose we’re not remarkable for the conventional virtues.”
Jake, remembering Dick had insisted that Kenwardine was dangerous, felt embarrassed as he noted that Clare was now looking at him. To make things worse, he thought Kenwardine had meant her to hear.
“I expect he really was afraid of my going to the casino,” he answered as carelessly as he could.
“Though he would not be much relieved to find you had come to my house instead? Well, I suppose one must make allowances for the Puritan character.”
“Brandon isn’t much of a Puritan, and he’s certainly not a prig,” Jake objected.
Kenwardine laughed. “I’m not sure this explanation makes things much better, but we’ll let it go. We were talking about the new water supply. It’s a harmless subject and you ought to be interested.”
Jake sat down and stole a glance at Clare as he drank a glass of wine. There was nothing to be learned from her face, but he was vexed with Kenwardine, who had intentionally involved him in an awkward situation. Jake admitted that he had not dealt with it very well. For all that, he began to talk about the irrigation works and the plans for bringing water to the town, and was relieved to see that Clare had gone when he next looked round.
As a matter of fact, Clare had quietly stolen away and was sitting on a balcony in the dark, tingling with anger and humiliation. She imagined that she had banished Brandon from her thoughts and was alarmed to find that he had still power to wound her. It had been a shock to learn he believed that she had stolen his papers; but he had now warned his companion against her father and no doubt herself. Jake’s manner when questioned had seemed to indicate this.
By and by she tried, not to make excuses for Brandon, but to understand his point of view, and was forced to admit that it was not unreasonable. Her father now and then allowed, or perhaps encouraged, his guests to play for high stakes, and she had hated to see the evening gatherings of extravagant young men at their house in England. Indeed, she had eagerly welcomed the change when he had offered to take her abroad because business necessitated his leaving the country. Things had been better at Santa Brigida, but after a time the card playing had begun again. The men who now came to their house were, however, of a different type from the rather dissipated youths she had previously met. They were quieter and more reserved; men of experience who had known adventure. Still, she disliked their coming and had sometimes felt she must escape from a life that filled her with repugnance. The trouble was that she did not know where to find a refuge and could not force herself to leave her father, who had treated her with good-humored indulgence.
Then she began to wonder what was the business that had brought him to Santa Brigida. He did not talk about it, but she was sure it was not gambling, as Brandon thought. No doubt he won some money from his friends, but it could not be much and he must lose at times. She must look for another explanation and it was hard to find. Men who did not play cards came to the house in the daytime and occasionally late at night, and Kenwardine, who wrote a good many letters, now and then went away down the coast. There was a mystery about his occupation that puzzled and vaguely alarmed her, and she could turn to nobody for advice. She had refused her aunt’s offer of a home and knew it would not be renewed. They had cast her off and done with her. Getting up presently with a troubled sigh, she went to her room.