llanza, having left the motor there to be
mended. It had broken down just before he reached the embarcadero, and
he had been obliged to row ashore. He was in an evil temper. His leg was
"drilling" again, and he had had two glasses of Cognac within an hour.

When he reached the lower terrace he looked up and saw Sophy and Amaldi
bending together over the photographs like two children over a
picture-book. She was talking eagerly, looking often at Amaldi. There
was a pretty flush on her face. Her grey eyes sparkled.... Chesney was
so gruff in manner that Amaldi went almost immediately. Sophy sat gazing
at her husband with a puzzled expression. She had not yet realised that
Chesney had taken a dislike to Amaldi as sudden as his first liking.

"Well, I must say you're making up for lost time!" he threw out roughly.

"How?" she asked, astonished, not getting his meaning.

"Why, a week ago you hadn't a word to throw that chap; now you palaver
with him like an old crony."

Sophy reddened with anger.

"Please don't speak to me in this way," she said coldly.

He reddened, too.

"You speak to Amaldi as you damn please--I'll speak to you as I damn
please," he said.

"No," said Sophy, "for I shan't stay to listen to you."

And she gathered up the photographs and went into the house with her
head high.

"Women are the devil!" said Chesney, scowling after her. "Women are the
devil!" he repeated, flinging himself morosely into a chair, and gazing
down at the outstretched leg which ached so infernally. Then he rose,
went upstairs and injected a fourth of a grain of morphia into it. He
sent word that he would not be down to dinner. At twelve o'clock that
night, he took another fourth.

XXXIX

Chesney was very much on his guard for two days after that. The pain in
his leg was better. He took no more morphia, until just before day on
the third morning. The sciatica had again roused him with its fierce
stabs. But he took a very moderate dose--only the eighth of a grain. A
cup of black coffee before going down to breakfast steadied him. He lay
on a wicker chair in the sunshine all the morning--reading between
dozes. He looked very pale. Sophy felt sorry for him, although she was
still indignant at the way he had spoken to her about Amaldi.

He ate a light lunch and drank two more cups of lye-like coffee after
it. He felt so much better that he asked her to come with him to Cerro.

"I'm going to hire a rowboat," he e