Probably the Boy would know well enough
how far to go, and to protect himself from consequences when he had
reached the limit.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XXI
The Challenge
"'Do I indeed lack courage?' inquired Mr. Archer of himself,
'Courage, . . . that does not fail a weasel or a rat--
that is a brutish faculty?'"--R.L. STEVENSON.
I drank my black coffee and smoked a cigarette. Then, a glance at my
watch told me that it was time to keep the appointment at the Villa
des Fleurs, five minutes' walk from the hotel. I expected the
Contessa's party to be late, but somewhat to my surprise they had
already arrived, and a quick glance showed me that, outwardly at
least, the relations of all were still amicable.
"Signor Boy did not wish to come," said the Contessa to me, "but I
made him. He says that he does not like crowds. Look at him now; he
has wandered far from us already, probably to find some dark corner
where he can forget that there are too many people. But then, it was
sweet of him to come at all, since it was only to please me."
It was true. The Boy had slipped away from the seats we had taken near
the music. He had gone to avoid me, perhaps, I said to myself
bitterly. I need not have spoiled my dinner with anxiety for his
welfare; he seemed to be taking very good care of himself.
"I was horribly worried at dinner," whispered Gaeta to me, the light
of the fireworks playing rosily over her face.
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