After a time Flora said they must go, and went out with Mabel, but Chisholm stopped by Marston's chair.
"It looks as if you were quite satisfied about this venture of Wyndham's, Bob," he said.
"Why, yes," Marston replied. "I've backed my approval by investing a good sum."
Chisholm was quiet for a moment or two, and then resumed: "That is not altogether what I meant; in fact, it's hard to state frankly what I do mean. I like Harry Wyndham. He's clever, resolute, and a good sportsman, but when he wanted to marry Flora I hesitated. Well, your story has given me some comfort. You have been with Wyndham and are satisfied. One can trust you."
"You are very kind, sir," Marston answered with a touch of awkwardness. "The business is risky, the climate's bad, and one must use some control. Leave liquor alone, for example; I think you understand! Still Harry's rather a Spartan; there's an ascetic vein in him. Besides, he won't stay long. As soon as he has put things straight he's coming back."
"Thank you," said Chisholm, but when he went off Marston felt embarrassed.
Chisholm trusted him and he was not sure he had been altogether frank. Wyndham, of course, was free from certain gross temptations to which some white men in the tropics were victims; but there were others, subtle and insidious, that rather appealed to the brain than the body. Marston could not declare that Harry resisted these. Yet it was impossible he should tell Chisholm his vague but disturbing doubts. It was some relief when Mabel returned and sat down opposite.
"Have they tired you, Bob?" she asked. "Light a cigarette and don't talk unless you want."
"I want to talk," said Marston, who used no reserve with her.
"Very well. To begin with, you saw my hint when Flora talked about the pearls."