Families -- Fiction; Governesses -- Fiction; Impostors and imposture -- Fiction; Love stories; Young women -- Fiction
Pearl's face fell. He was really quite cross. It seemed hard to her
that the meaningless sort of beam with which she accompanied a casual
good morning had been enough to reduce the third vice president to
weeping on his desk, while a particularly concentrated beam--a beam
designed to say in a ladylike, yet unmistakable manner that the one
man of all men was now standing before her--seemed to have no effect
whatsoever on said man. She tried it nevertheless.
Anthony, seeing it, suddenly became angry. Did this woman, he thought,
who was perhaps a thief and was certainly an impostor, really suppose
she was going to charm him, Anthony Wood, by her mere beauty--he who
was well known to be indifferent to women? She would learn----
But what she would learn was not formulated, for she now surprised
him by jumping to her feet and running like a gazelle toward the
sea, crying out something to him which he did not catch. He started,
however, in full pursuit--his first thought being that she intended
to drown herself; the second that she meant to fling the pearls into
the sea--the well-known trick of destroying the evidence in a tight
place. She ran on. The sea was up to her knees--up to her waist, fully
dressed as she was; she was now swimming. They had the sea entirely to
themselves. Even the detectives, trusting to Mr. Wood, had withdrawn
for a bite to eat; and at five o'clock all those fortunate people who
come to the seaside for the summer are engaged in golfing or playing
bridge, and seem to ignore the existence of the Atlantic Ocean.
Anthony had hesitated at the brink of the sea long enough to take off
first his shoes, second his watch and third the light coat which he
had worn driving the car, so that he was some little distance behind
her. Swimming hard and for the most part under water, he did not see
for some time the object which had attracted Pearl's attention. Neither
suicide nor the pearls were the object of her plunge, but a small white
dog which appeared to be drowning. Some children up the beach had been
throwing sticks for it, and now at the end of a long afternoon it had
got caught in some current and was obviously in trouble, every third or
fourth wave washing over its little pointed nose.
Pearl, never doubting that Wood was actuated by the same motives as
herself, panted out, "Can we get there in time?"
He came alongside her now.
"You're not going to drown too!" he said.
She shook her wet head. Together they towed the exhausted little
creature back. As soon as she could walk Pearl picked it up in her arms
and strode ashore.
"Don't you think it was a crime for those children to go away and leave
him like that?" Her gray eyes, instead of beaming, glowed angrily.
"Are you so against crime?" said Anthony, trying to smooth the water
out of his hair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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