But I slept in the
sitting-room last night, and I was dead beat. He cleared out
early."
"Didn't anyone see him go?" queried Kelly keenly.
"Yes. My wife." Again Burke's tone was curt, repressive. "She
couldn't stop him."
"She made him hold hard with the brandy-bottle last night," said
Kelly. "I admired her for it. She's got a way with her, Burke.
Sure, the devil himself couldn't have resisted her then."
Burke's faint smile showed for a moment; he said nothing.
"How you must worship her!" went on Kelly, with amiable effusion.
"Some fellows have all the luck. Sure, you're never going to let
that sweet angel languish here like that poor little Mrs. Merston!
You wouldn't now! Come, you wouldn't!"
But Burke passed the matter by. He had pressing affairs on hand,
and obviously it was not his intention to discuss his conduct
towards his wife even with the worthy Kelly whose blundering
goodness so often carried him over difficult ground that few others
would have ventured to negotiate.
He left Kelly to dress, and went back to the bungalow where Sylvia
was busy with a duster trying to get rid of some of the sand that
thickly covered everything. He had scarcely spoken to her that
morning except for news Of Guy, but now he drew her aside.
"Look here!" he said. "Don't wear yourself out!"
She gave him a quick look.
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