"Venetia went, of course?"
"Of course—and Marbridge—and everybody!"
He grunted thoughtfully. They descended to a terrace which jutted airily out over the edge of a cliff, with a sheer drop of a hundred and fifty feet to the beach.
Helena, dropping languidly into a wicker chair, motioned Matthias to the broad marble balustrade.
"Any sign of the Enchantress, O perturbed nephew?"
He lingered there for an instant, marvelling with an inexhaustible wonder at the magnificent sweep of the view, then remembering, raked the waters until he discovered Tankerville's power-cruiser standing in toward the dock from the bottle-neck mouth of Port Madison harbour.
Returning, he reported, seated himself near his aunt, lighted a cigarette.
"Why did you ask him here anyway?" he demanded abruptly.
"Who?" she parried mischievously.
"Marbridge, of course," he admitted, sulking in the face of her manifest amusement.