The room was in order, but it had not been dismantled as had the others; and although a thin film of dust lay everywhere, it seemed, curiously enough, more cosy, giving out the atmosphere of having been more lately occupied than the rest of the house. Could that be because the presence of the woman who had died there seemed still to linger?
George’s faded eyes blurred and the candle shook in his hand, but he advanced to the table. There lay the golf sticks just as he had supposed; and gathering them up he left the den, closing the door behind him, and as he entered the other’s eyes traveled to his burden, and a sound very like an oath escaped his lips.
“Where did you get those?” he demanded roughly.
“I—I thought we might run over to the Reel and Rifle and you would need them,” George stammered. “You ought to take it up once more, Norman.”
Storm threw his hands out with an uncontrollable gesture of horror.
“I shall never play again!” he cried hoarsely. “Take those sticks away out of my sight!”
With a pained, bewildered expression George turned obediently and deposited his burden with a clatter in the corner of the hall. He did not quite understand his old friend these days, and seemed to be forever offending when he meant only to be kind and thoughtful. Of course Storm and Leila had played golf together always, but they had gone on fishing trips together, too, and Storm did not appear to mind the prospect of that. Why should golf hold such particularly poignant memories for him?
Storm meanwhile was fighting hard to regain the mastery over himself that the unexpected sight of those wretched golf sticks had for a moment overthrown. Curse that meddlesome fool! Why had he taken it upon himself to suggest that damned game, above everything else, and how had he dared to get those sticks without even asking!
But the fire of rage died out within him as quickly as it had arisen. Let old George think what he pleased; it didn’t matter. He was too tired to dissemble, and besides it would not be worth the effort. George would put it down as just one of his moods, that was all.
Then another thought came to him, and he moved swiftly to the table and opened the drawer. His pistol lay within, and as he picked it up a grim smile twisted the corners of his mouth. It was quite improbable, of course, but there was just a chance that he might find use for it on that fishing trip!