CHAPTER XIV
The Second Visitation
MR. COSMO STACKFIELD, rounding a sharp curve with no warning hornblast, swerved, swore, and bringing his car to a halt, turned in his seat.
“I say,” he called back, “I wasn’t trying to run you down, O’Hara!”
“Oh! I thought you were.”
“Are you people back at the bungalow?” inquired Stackfield. “I trust Mrs. Rhodes is recovered from the results of her fright.”
“She is,” retorted the other with intentional briefness. “She’s not here. I came out by myself for the solitude. When a man’s used to the open, he wearies of just hearing people chatter. So I’m living alone for a while. Good day to you, sir.”
Colin’s rudeness was too gross and too obviously intentional for Stackfield to ignore longer. A slow flush tinged his flabby cheeks, and with a muttered
