"Better to stew than to eat sand," he remarked.
"I've just heard from one of the Kaffirs that Piet Vreiboom's land
is on fire."
"What?" said Burke sharply.
"It's all right at present," said Guy. "We can bear it with
equanimity. The wind is the other way."
"The wind may change," said Burke.
"That wouldn't be like your luck," remarked Guy, as he seated
himself.
They partook of the meal almost in silence. To Sylvia the very air
was laden with foreboding. Everything they ate was finely powered
with sand, but she alone was apparently aware of the fact. The
heat inside the bungalow was intense. Outside a fierce wind had
begun to blow, and the sky was dark.
At the end of a very few minutes Burke arose. Guy sprang instantly
to his feet.
"Are you off? I'm coming!"
"No--no," Burke said shortly. "Stay where you are!"
"I tell you I'm coming," said Guy, pushing aside his chair.
Burke, already ac the door, paused and looked at him. "Better
not," he said. "You're not up to it--and this infernal sand----"
"Damn the sand!" said Guy, with vehemence. "I'm coming!"
He reached Burke with the words. His hand sought the door. Burke
swallowed the rest of his remonstrance.
"Please yourself!" he said, with a shadowy smile; and then for a
moment his eyes went to Sylvia. "You will stay in this afternoon,"
he said.
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