Next day, while old Humphreys remained in his invalid chair to write some business letters to his agents in the Near East, and Doctor Feng had a match at curling, I took “The Little Lady” out upon the other side of the deep valley to the popular winter sports resort at Wengen, which lies up the mountain on the opposite side of the valley. We lunched at the splendid Regina Hotel, where every one goes, and afterwards took some snap-shots. Later we took the train up to the Schiedegg and came down on our skis, a glorious run back to Wengen, the snow conditions being perfect. In everything she was interested, admiring the scenery and thoroughly enjoying the run, until we returned in the darkness up the mountain side again to Mürren.
I had come to the conclusion that Mrs. Audley had been a London business girl, for she told me she knew shorthand and typewriting, and she was evidently familiar with business affairs. The old invalid had become even more interested in her. He studied her as the type of the modern girl and she certainly was always bright and vivacious when with us. Dr. Feng, however, though he was invariably polite to her, seemed to have become, for some reason, decidedly antagonistic. It is true the position was decidedly unconventional and irregular, but I could not reconcile his present attitude with his earlier and very obvious liking for Mrs. Audley. He now disagreed utterly with my quixotic offer to look after her and did not hesitate to say so.
“You are playing with fire,” he declared. “You are both young and she is a very pretty girl. The best thing you can do will be to clear out.”
I laughed, of course, and told him I had only accepted this responsibility in order to help a man out of a difficulty.
He shook his head. “You don’t know either of them, and you don’t know what you may have let yourself in for.”
I wondered, naturally, whether he had been influenced by the arrival of the crystal claw, and asked him bluntly if this were the case.
“Not at all,” he assured me. “The crystal claw has nothing whatever to do with it.”
In spite of all he said I would not take his advice. In the headstrong way of youth I put him down as a thoroughly conventional old fogey, a survival of the Victorian era when girls were compelled to go about with chaperons and the smoking of a cigarette was a vice to be indulged only in the strictest privacy. So Mrs. Audley and I continued to enjoy ourselves, skating each morning on the rink and skiing together in the afternoon over the freshly fallen snow.
With a view to throwing additional light on the mystery of the crystal claw I tried as delicately as I could to “pump” her about her father. But it was evident she knew little or nothing beyond what she had told me. “He was a naval officer on the China Station for many years,” seemed to sum it all up and I wondered whether, for some reason I could not divine, further knowledge had been deliberately withheld from her. Of Eastern political affairs she obviously knew nothing.
Of her husband she said little, though I saw she was devoted to him.