He shook hands with Engle, nodded to
Patten, and coming to Virginia said lightly, but, she thought, with an
almost sternly serious look in his eyes:
"We're all hoping you like San Juan, Miss Page. And you will, too, if
the desert stillness doesn't get on your nerves. But then silence
isn't such a bad thing after all, is it? Good night."
She understood his meaning and, though a thrill of excitement ran
through her blood, answered laughingly:
"Shall a woman learn from the desert? Have I been such a chatter-box,
Mrs. Engle, that I am to be admonished at the beginning to study to
hold my tongue?"
Florence looked at her curiously, turned toward Norton, and then went
with him to the door. For a moment their voices came in a murmur down
the hallway; then Norton had gone and Florence returned slowly to the
living-room.
Again Virginia looked out into the patio. Never a twig stirred now;
all was as quiet as the sleeping fountain, as silent and mystery-filled
as the desert itself. Had Roderick Norton seen more than she? Did he
know who had been out there? Was here the beginning of some further
sinister outgrowth of the lawlessness of Kid Rickard? of the animosity
of Jim Galloway? Was she presently to see Norton himself slipping into
the patio from the other side, was she again to hear the rattle of
pistol-shots? He had asked that she say nothing; she had
unhesitatingly given him her promise.
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