In the morning Mellenger was gone. He left a note to Dan explaining that he had received a sudden and wholly unexpected call to return to San Francisco and begged Dan to present his compliments to the ladies and to express his regret at an unceremonious departure.
“The man’s a poor slave,” Dan declared.
Tamea, who had been at his elbow as he read, inquired: “Who?”
“Mellenger. He has left us.”
“Ah,” Tamea breathed—thoughtfully. After a brief silence she said: “Then Maisie will have an opportunity to play with you. I am glad Mellengair has gone.”
“Tamea, you mustn’t hold a grudge against my friend Mark. He is not an enemy of yours.”
“An enemy conquered is no longer an enemy, Dan. I do not hold the grudge. I have taken my vengeance on that man for the hurt he has done me, and I am content to forget him.”
“But you’ll always be pleasant and courteous to him when you meet him at my house?”
“Certainement.”
“Sorry you cannot play golf, or we’d make it a threesome, Tamea.”