Page:The Trespasser, Lawrence, 1912.djvu/120

112 butterfly among the words. That will be a very fitting way to read this poet.”

So she strolled to the gate, glancing up now and again. There, sure enough, was Siegmund coming, the towel hanging over his shoulder, his throat bare, and his face bright. She stood in the mottled shade.

“I have kept you waiting,” said Siegmund.

“Well, I was reading, you see.”

She would not admit her impatience.

“I have been talking,” he said.

“Talking!” she exclaimed in slight displeasure.

“Have you found an acquaintance even here?”

“A fellow who was quite close friends in Savoy days; he made me feel queer—sort of Doppelgänger, he was.”

Helena glanced up swiftly and curiously.

“In what way?” she said.

“He talked all the skeletons in the cupboard—such piffle it seems, now! The sea is like a hare-bell, and there are two battleships lying in the bay. You can hear the voices of the men on deck distinctly. Well, have you made the plans for to-day?”

They went into the house to breakfast. She watched him helping himself to the scarlet and green salad.

“Mrs. Curtiss,” she said, in rather reedy tone, “has been very motherly to me this morning; “oh, very motherly!”

Siegmund, who was in a warm, gay mood, shrank up.

“What, has she been saying something about last night?” he asked.

“She was very much concerned for me—was afraid something dreadful had happened,” continued Helena, in the same keen, sarcastic tone, which showed she was trying to rid herself of her own mortification.