The consul-general was genuinely shocked.
"You can't blame me for thinking things," went on Mallow. "What man wouldn't? Ask her about Warrington. You'll find that I'm telling the truth, all right."
"If you are, then she has made one of those mistakes women make when they travel alone. I shall see her at tea and talk to her. But I do not thank you, Mallow, for telling me this. A finer, loyaler-hearted girl doesn't live. She might have been kind out of sympathy."
Mallow bit off the tip of his cigar. "He's a handsome beggar, if you want to know."
"I resent that tone. Better drop the subject before I lose my temper. I'll have your papers ready for you in the morning." The consul-general caught up his pen savagely to indicate that the interview was at an end.
"All right," said Mallow good-naturedly. "I meant no harm. Just naturally curious. Can't blame me."
"I'm not blaming you. But it has disturbed me, and I wish to be alone to think it over."
Mallow lounged out, rather pleased with himself. His greatest pleasure in life was in making others uncomfortable.
The consul-general bit the wooden end of his pen and chewed the splinters of cedar. He couldn't deny that it was like Elsa to pick up some derelict for her benefactions. But to select a man who was probably wanted by the American police was a frightful misfortune. Women had no business to travel alone. It was all very well when they toured in parties of eight or ten; but for a charming young woman like Elsa, attended by a spinster companion who doubtless dared not offer advice, it was decidedly wrong. And thereupon he determined that her trip to Yokohama should find her well guarded.
"I beg your pardon," said a pleasant voice.