Page:The little blue devil (IA littlebluedevil00mackiala).pdf/142

“Ahh—r! Don’t dare to touch me! . . . Leave me to him. I am much better alone. Go at once, Tony!”

He shrugged helplessly and went. Passing Charbonnel, he stopped and faced him squarely.

“Well, I asked her, and it is no use,” he said. “But if I find you’ve been worrying her, you’ll hear about it. You just leave her alone.”

He went on down the hill before the other had time to answer, not wilfully, but because he had too much occupying his mind to be thinking of Charbonnel’s point of view.

It was a tangle. He did not want to marry Liane—he didn’t want to marry anyone. But he certainly did not wish to hurt her. The question was, Would it hurt her? She had seemed so distressed when he spoke. . . . That was Charbonnel. He must have said—things. . . . The veins in Tony’s forehead swelled as he thought. It was the shame of being talked about that was worrying Liane so—it must be beastly for a girl to feel that her father discussed her with—any man.

Of course she did not love him. That—last night—happened because they were so near each other. It should not happen again, indeed he had better go away for good.... Very absurd of Charbonnel! and if it were not for Liane’s sake he would not have taken it so calmly. . . . It would never do. Besides, he could not keep a wife. He had asked her, and anyone could see that she loathed the idea, and now there was nothing for him to do but to leave Thursday Island. What was the next boat that went on Singapore way? He went towards the wharves to make enquiries. A drenching rain had come on, hot and lashing, and the sea was beaten to flat emerald. “Wretched hole, anyway, Thursday Island!” He was glad to be going—but he wished he felt easier about Liane and her father. That was nonsense, though; they were really very fond