Slyly from the corner of her eye Nora looked at Courtlandt, who was at that moment staring thoughtfully into his tea-cup and stirring the contents industriously. His face was a little thinner, but aside from that he had changed scarcely at all; and then, because these two years had left so little mark upon his face, a tinge of unreasonable anger ran over her. “Men have died and worms have eaten them,” she thought cynically. Perhaps the air between them was sufficiently charged with electricity to convey the impression across the intervening space; for his eyes came up quickly, but not quickly enough to catch her. She dropped her glance to Abbott, transferred it to the Barone, and finally let it rest on her father’s face. Four handsomer men she had never seen.
“You never told me you knew Courtlandt,” said Harrigan, speaking to Abbott.
“Just happened that way. We went to school together. When I was little they used to make me wear curls and wide collars. Many’s the time Courtlandt walloped the school bullies for mussing me up. I don’t see him much these days. Once in a while he walks in. That’s all. Always seems to know where his friends are, but none ever knows where he is.”
Abbott proceeded to elaborate some of his friend’s exploits. Nora heard, as if from afar. Vaguely she caught a glimmer of what the contest was going to be. She could see only a little way; still, she was optimistically confident of the result. She was ready. Indeed, now that the shock of the meeting was past, she found herself not at all averse to a conflict. It would be something to let go the pent-up wrath of two years. Never would she speak to him directly; never would she permit him to be alone with her; never would she miss a chance to twist his heart, to humiliate him, to snub him. From her point of view, whatever game he chose to play would be a losing one. She was genuinely surprised to learn how eager she was for the game to begin so that she might gage his strength.
“So I have heard,” she was dimly conscious of saying.
“Didn’t know you knew,” said Abbott.
“Knew what?” rousing herself.
“That Courtlandt nearly lost his life in the eighties.”
“In the eighties!” dismayed at her slip.
“Latitudes. Polar expedition.”