She then told him most but not all of what had taken place.
“It is awkward. Do you think he’ll come again?”
“Sure to, that’s the trouble. Nothing I can say—or you—will stop him. You don’t know what he is. We’re safe for to-night, so you needn’t worry about that, but what can we do? There mustn’t be a row, for your sake. Hullo! there’s somebody, and not a thing ready.”
“All the better—all the more like a picnic. It’s Fred. Come along, we appoint you chef. Marian shall be kitchen maid. I’ll lay the table.”
CHAPTER XI
Maddison was not surprised at a visit from Squire early the next morning; and if not armed he was at any rate forewarned.
He offered him a chair and a cigarette, both of which were curtly refused.
“As you will,” Maddison said, seemingly careless and supercilious, but in reality closely watching his opponent’s face. “I hope you will not mind my both sitting and smoking; both are conducive to comfort, and what’s life without comfort?”
“It will be better,” Squire said, shuffling awkwardly, “to talk simply and without any remarks which are likely to be offensive. You know why I’ve come?”