“No, but it is possible somebody else might. This town is full of ignorant foreigners who would hardly think twice of it. If he had asked my advice, it would have been to stay away from Mesa.”
“He wouldn’t have taken it,” returned Ridgway carelessly. “Whatever else is true about him, Simon Harley isn’t a coward. He would have told you that not a sparrow falls to the ground without the permission of the distorted God he worships, and he would have come on the next train.”
“Well, it isn’t my funeral,” contributed Steve airily.
“All the same I’m going to pass his police patrols and pay a visit to the third floor of the Mesa House.”
“You are going to compromise with him?” cried Eaton swiftly.
“Compromise nothing, I’m going to pay a formal social call on Mrs. Harley, and respectfully hope that she has suffered no ill effects from her exposure to the cold.”
Eaton made no comment, unless to whistle gently were one.
“You think it isn’t wise?”
“Well, is it?” asked Steve.
“I think so. We’ll scotch the lying tongue of rumor by a strict observance of the conventions. Madam Grundy is padlocked when we reduce the situation to the absurdity of the common place.”