So they crossed over and joined the group. The padre smiled. It was a

situation such as he loved to study: a strong man and a strong woman, at

war. But nothing happened; not a ripple anywhere to disclose the agitation

beneath. The man laughed and the woman laughed, but they spoke not to each

other, nor looked once into each other's eyes.

The sun was dropping toward the western tops. The guests were leaving by

twos and threes. The colonel had prevailed upon his dinner-guests not to

bother about going back to the village to dress, but to dine in the

clothes they wore. Finally, none remained but Harrigan, Abbott, the

Barone, the padre and Courtlandt. And they talked noisily and agreeably

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concerning man-affairs until Rao gravely announced that dinner was

served.

It was only then, during the lull which followed, that light was shed upon

the puzzle which had been subconsciously stirring Harrigan's mind: Nora

had not once spoken to the son of his old friend.




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