"Yes, I think that he may come back in a little while."
"I'm so glad!"
"By Jove! I'll have to watch that Sinclair. He makes conquests of both old and young."
XIII
MORE CONFIDENCES
In the building at the foot of the hill, near the shore, occupied by MacAllister, Munro Co. partly as a warehouse and partly as a residence for the company's European employees, another matrimonial tête-à-tête was taking place. De Vaux and his two or three assistants, the representatives of the big London firm in North Formosa, had found temporary quarters in the buildings of the customs' compound or with the staffs of other firms. Mr. and Mrs. MacAllister and their daughter, with the native servants, had the living-rooms of the big hong to themselves.
It was little more than seven o'clock, an extraordinary hour for rising the morning after a late dinner. But, with characteristic regularity of habits, Mr. MacAllister was already up and shaving. As was fitting at such an hour, he was clothed only in pyjamas and slippers. But even those shapeless garments were worn with an attention to neatness quite lacking in most men whom a score and a half of years of married life have made entirely indifferent to personal appearance in the intimacy of the bed-chamber. He had even taken the trouble to brush his hair, at least what was left of it—another extraordinary proceeding on the part of a man who was likely to be seen by no person but his wife.
The shaving process was nearly done. He was carefully feeling the hard spots on each side of his chin to see if any offending hairs had escaped the relentless sweep of the razor and still projected within its range.
"Hector, you are a most extraordinary man."
The voice came from within the canopy of the mosquito curtains draped around the high-posted iron bed which occupied the centre of the room.