nd Rodriguez, because they could
tell him something definite about Rachel.

Nevertheless the day followed the usual forms. At certain hours they
went into the dining-room, and when they sat round the table they talked
about indifferent things. St. John usually made it his business to start
the talk and to keep it from dying out.

"I've discovered the way to get Sancho past the white house," said St.
John on Sunday at luncheon. "You crackle a piece of paper in his ear,
then he bolts for about a hundred yards, but he goes on quite well after
that."

"Yes, but he wants corn. You should see that he has corn."

"I don't think much of the stuff they give him; and Angelo seems a dirty
little rascal."

There was then a long silence. Ridley murmured a few lines of poetry
under his breath, and remarked, as if to conceal the fact that he had
done so, "Very hot to-day."

"Two degrees higher than it was yesterday," said St. John. "I wonder
where these nuts come from," he observed, taking a nut out of the plate,
turning it over in his fingers, and looking at it curiously.

"London, I should think," said Terence, looking at the nut too.

"A competent man of business could make a fortune here in no time," St.
John continued. "I suppose the heat does something funny to people's
brains. Even the English go a little queer. Anyhow they're hopeless
people to deal with. They kept me three-quarters of an hour waiting at
the chemist's this morning, for no reason whatever."

There was another long pause. Then Ridley enquired, "Rodriguez seems
satisfied?"

"Quite," said Terence with decision. "It's just got to run its course."
Whereupon Ridley heaved a deep sigh. He was genuinely sorry for every
one, but at the same time he missed Helen considerably, and was a little
aggrieved by the constant presence of the two young men.

They moved back into the drawing-room.

"Look here, Hirst," said Terence, "there's nothing to be done for two
hours." He consulted the sheet pinned to the door. "You go and lie down.
I'll wait here. Chailey sits with Rachel while Helen has her luncheon."

It was asking a good deal of Hirst to tell him to go without waiting for
a sight of Helen. These little glimpses of Helen were the only respites
from strain and boredom, and very often they seemed to make up for the
discomfort of the day, although she might not have anything to tell
them. However, as they were on an expedition together, he had made up
his min