But Berry made harpstrings of those petals and played on them in and out of season. Had anyone worn a lapel flower the evening before? Everyone was agreed that Dorn was wearing one—but they were equally agreed it was a gardenia. Belknap himself was positive on this point, although some of the others lost their certainty. Belknap also said he might have been wearing one himself; he exchanged glances with Nadia.
“Next time you offer me a flower for my buttonhole, Miss Mdevani,” he said in a gently bantering tone, “don’t let anyone’s presence deter you. I should be charmed to have one from your fair hand.”
“It will be freshly plucked,” she answered him, her eyes very bright, high color on her face.
“No innuendoes!” Berry had cried. “You two need a moor and a moon. Remember this is a court of law.”
“I am not likely to forget it,” she said. “But, dangerous as it is to me, the moor and the moon would be more so,” and she tilted her chin at Belknap.
This had been a temporary fade-out of Berry’s interest in the carnation. But he had returned to it often, as he had to other apparently illogical and tiresomely remote incidents. It had the effect, however, of whetting Belknap’s appetite for enlightenment: had Berry a theory, or no theory; was he throwing dust to cover what he considered the crux of the whole business, or was he merely floundering in a waste of motives, unable to take the bull by the horns? Certainly it was time the two of them went into a huddle and exchanged views, even if the views were limited.
So it was with great expectations that Belknap answered Berry’s proposal.
“Yes, let’s go into retreat. I have a little to say myself.”
XV
“Nadia!”