Mrs. Hetherington, whom the end of the voyage
had left nervy and cross, said cattish things. She thought Marcella had
shown very little tact in throwing herself at Louis; she advised her,
with the next man, not to tire him out.
"Oh, you're an idiot," cried Marcella, her eyes full of tears, and
decided that this was an occasion for her father's favourite epithet. "A
double-distilled idiot! How have you managed Mr. Peters except by never
leaving him alone for a minute?"
"I am a woman of the world, and understand men," she said airily. "I
wove a net about him--in ways you would not understand, my child."
"Don't want to," snapped Marcella. "I'm not a spider!"
They anchored out in the stream in Sydney Harbour, going ashore in
tenders. Marcella scanned the quay anxiously to find Louis, though
Knollys told her that he would, most probably, be in by train to-morrow
at noon. But she had an idea that he might have got through earlier, and
hurried up to the General Post Office, which he had told her was his
only address in the Colonies, to which his letters were sent. But it was
a fruitless errand. Enquiry at the station told her that, as Knollys had
said, the next train possible for Louis would be in at noon to-morrow.
She turned back through the streets that were so extraordinarily like
London in spite of Chinese, German and Italian names.
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