Sugar, coffee and spices. Thomas dipped his pen into the inkwell and
went to work. Were all American fathers mad? To condone an affront
like this! He could not understand these Americans. He had approached
Killigrew with far more courage than the latter suspected. Thomas had
read that here men still shot each other on slight provocation. Sugar,
coffee and spices. . . . Sao Paulo and valorization committee . . .
10,000,000 bags. What should he do? Whither should he turn? To have
offered that affront . . . for nothing! Kitty, whom he revered above
all women save one, his mother! . . . Sugar, coffee and spices. Rio
number seven, 7 1/2 to 13 1/2 cents. Leaks in the roasting
business. . . . Apologize? On his knees, if need be. Caught like a
rat in a trap; done for; at the end of his rope. Why hadn't he taken
to his heels when he had had the chance? Gone at once to New York and
sent for his belongings? . . . Sugar, coffee and spices. . . . The
pen slipped from his fingers, and he laid his head on his arms.
Monumental ass!
Up suddenly, alert eyed. There was a telephone-booth in the hall.
This he sought noiselessly. He remained hidden in the booth for as
long as twenty minutes. Then he emerged, wiping the perspiration from
his forehead. For the time being he was saved. But he was very
miserable.
Sugar, coffee and spices again. Doggedly he recommenced the
transcription, adding, deducting, comparing. He heard a slight noise
by the portière, and raised his eyes. Kitty stood there like a picture
in a frame; pale, calm of eye.
He was on his feet quickly. "Miss Killigrew, I apologize for my
unwarranted rudeness. I did not mean it as you thought I did"--which
would have made any other woman furious.
"I know it," said Kitty to herself. "You wanted an excuse to run away.
All my conjectures are true. I believe I have you, Mr. Thomas, right
in the hollow of my hand." To Thomas, however, she was a presentiment
of cold and silent indignation.
He blundered on. "You have all been so kind to me . . . I am sorry.
I am also quite ready to stay or go, whichever you say."
"We shall say no more about it," she replied coldly; turned on her trim
little heels and went out into the rose gardens, where she found fault
with the head gardener; and on to the stables, where she rated the head
groom for not exercising her favorite mount; and back to the villa,
where she upset the cook by ordering a hearty breakfast which she could
not eat; and all the time striving to smother her generous impulses and
the queer little thrills which stirred in her heart.