The Avalanche - Page 42/95

He turned to Mrs. Thornton.

"Going on to the Fairmont?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, I have a new gown--have you admired it? Arrived from Paris last

night--and I am chaperoning two of these girls. You are not, of course?"

"I did intend to, but it's no go. Still, I may drop in late and take my

wife home--"

"Let me take her home." Was his imagination morbid, or was there

something both peremptory and eager in Mrs. Thornton's tones? "I'm

stopping at the Fairmont, of course, but Fordy and I often take a drive

after a hot night and a heavy supper."

"If you would take her home in case I miss it. I must go to the office--"

"I'd like to. That's settled." This time her tones were warm and

friendly. Ruyler knew that Mrs. Thornton did not like his wife, but her

friendliness toward him, since her return from Europe three or four

months ago, had increased, if anything. His mind was now working with its

accustomed keen clarity. He recalled that there had been no surprise

mixed with the contempt in her regard of his wife and Doremus.... He also

recalled that several times of late when he had met her at the

Fairmont--where he often lunched with a group of men--she had regarded

him with a curious considering glance, which he suddenly vocalized as:

"How long?"

This affair had been going on for some time, then. Either it was common

talk, or some circumstance had enlightened Mrs. Thornton alone.

He glanced around the table. No one appeared to be taking the slightest

notice of one of many flirtations. At least, whatever his wife's

infatuation, he could avert gossip. Mrs. Thornton might be a tigress, but

she was not a cat.

"When do you go down to Burlingame?" she asked.

"Not for two or three weeks yet. I don't fancy merely sleeping in the

country. But by that time things will ease up a bit and I can get down

every day in time to have a game of golf before dinner."

"Shall Mrs. Ruyler migrate with the rest?"

"Hardly."

"It will be dull for her in town. No reflections on your charming

society, but of course she does not get much of it, and she will miss her

young friends. After all, she is a child and needs playmates."

Ruyler darted at her a sharp look, but she was smiling amiably. Doremus

and the men he lived with, in town had a bungalow at Burlingame and they

bought their commutation tickets at precisely the fashionable moment.

"She will stay in town," he said shortly. "She needs a rest, and San

Francisco is the healthiest spot on earth."