"Pooh!" said Pen. "That threat of arrest was just a bluff."
"Nothing, Dad.""From memory?""Why, nothing!" he said with an air of surprise.
"How much do you want?"
Pen read this name without any sensation beyond a sudden quickening of interest. She needed no further urging to read on."I don't want to come out," said Pen coolly. "I want to hear what's going on in my house.""Pushed off in his canoe somewhere."
"Well ... if you're not hiding him, where is he?" he mumbled.All afternoon she was filled with an excitement that was neither wholly pleasurable nor painful. Her heart would keep rising in her throat, and stern discipline was required to put it down. Finally she red up the house. She lingered in the guest-room her hand caressing the white spread, while she debated whether she might ask him to spend the night. She foresaw her father's look of disapproval but that did not influence her much. But she decided against it with a firm shake of the head. "Only prolong the agony," she said to herself, with her little smile of self-mockery.
"I have stated the facts."
"Is that all?" asked Don at last.
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"If I was ... friendly with him, do you think I'm the sort of person to give him up?" demanded Pen.
"We had legal advice, sir. Not from Mr. Corveth, but from another lawyer, who once defended Spike Talley."As soon as it was safe to do so, she picked her way out over the broken floor of the wharf. The piles were gnawed and broken, and the pushing of the ice during many seasons had given the whole structure a rakish cant towards the Bay. Pen dropped over the side into an inch or two of water and gingerly picked her way towards the tent.详情
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