Memory Frean had come into the room and Mr. Richard Fenton stood immediately behind her. He was watching Tory.
“I am afraid I have said too much or too little and perhaps tired or worried you, Kara. If you like, suppose we have a long, quiet talk some day alone. I’ll come again to see you and we can go out into the woods together.”
Conscious of the atmosphere and of his own imprudence, Mr. Hammond picked up his hat and stick which he had placed upon a table.
Again his own interest in the situation became stronger than other impressions.
Walking toward Kara’s chair, he pushed the chair a few feet nearer the wall.
Without explaining his purpose he moved aside a rug which lay on the floor and struck the boards with his cane.
“Has this floor ever been taken up and a new one laid down?” he inquired, apparently of Victoria Drew, who chanced to be standing nearer than any one else.
Tory shook her head.
“I don’t think so. The floor was in extremely good condition when we decided to make this cabin the center of our camp in Beech wood Forest.”
“The bed stood just here,” Mr. Hammond indicated with his walking stick the exact spot where Kara’s chair had been the moment before. “I have always felt we should have had this floor removed. Kara, if you will give me permission, when the summer camping days have passed, I should like to undertake it. There isn’t one chance in a thousand we should come across anything, but it would be worth while to try, would it not?”