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of finding all your shops open you'd better hurry."
"I guess so. So long."
Tess heard him go whistling into the yard; the roar of a
car as he zoomed away. Keen on himself but quite agree-
able, she decided. She hadn't met many Englishmen at
Kenegan; had forgotten that a good-looking Englishman
is rather a refreshing sight, even if there did happen to be
things about him one didn't care for very much. Then,
. feeling there ought to be a large fruit cake to cut at, she
began measuring ingredients and .forgot Roland Kain.
By seven the dinner was ready: fresh tomato soup,
a stuffed shoulder of lamb, peas, carrots and potatoes, and
a fruit salad of apples, cherries, halved plums and straw-
berries, with a grape here and there. She tidied her hair,
washed her hands and sounded the gong. Steve and George
came in almost at once.
"Sorry it's so warm in here," she said. "We'll keep the
doors wide. Would like some chilled fruit juice?"
Steve took the jug from the fridge and poured it out.
"Kain brought some drinks. If you can find room for them
; we'll cool a few bottles."
"Where is he?" she asked.
"Right here, baby," Roland said from the doorway. In
one arm he carried four bottles; the other hand was out-
stretched, offering a box of chocolates. "For the blonde
with forget-me-not blue eyes. Ta-ra-ral"
Tess took the box awkwardly, slanted a quick glance at
the other two men and said matter-of-factly, "Thanks, but
don't ever do anything like this again. I ... I don't want
presents from any of you."
; "Oh, come on," said Roland, relinquishing the bottles.
: "Loosen up. What part of Eangland do you come from?"
I "Warwickshire."
; 43
"I come from Gloucester, so we're practically next-door
neighbors. If we'd stayed over there I'd probably have met
you at a cricket match. The next step would have been a
theatre, and who ever takes a girl to a theatre without
giving her chocolates? The dinner smells good. Let me
take the tureen for you."
Something, Tess isalized as they ate, had been destroyed.
Something which was vital to this close relationship which
only one of them seemed to want. At lunch, a cool friendly
atmosphere had seemed possible; the men would give help
whom she needed it and if she were too busy to provide
more than a dull meal they wouldn't complain. In fact, they
were keen to be little trouble. Now she knew that they had
kept clear of the house this afternoon for her benefit. There
must be plans to discuss, methods of working, the housing
of the laborers to arrange, supplies for the workers; instead
of getting down to their problems they had split up out-
doors and left her free to get organized. That was how it
seemed, anyway.
She felt a bit sick and fed up, and sat through dinner
almost in silence. Roland was talkative, George smiled at
her encouragingly, but Steve looked disinterested and pre-
occupied. Bother him, she thought crossly, it's not my
fault that his surveyor happens to be a ladies' man.
When the coffee was ready she stood up. "I'll serve
coffee for you men in the lounge, if you don't mind. You
can talk in there as long as you like."
There was a brief silence. Then Steve said, "A good
idea. We'll take the tray with us. Pour your own cup first."
She did, not very steadily. As she replaced the pot her
hand brushed his and involuntarily she looked up at him.
There was a mocking glint in the grey eyes, a calculating
half-smile on the well-defined mouth; he was strong and
challenging and quite uncomprehensible. Tess had always
been reckoned intelligent, but to deal with some men you
need more than intelligence; you need a double share of
intuition and sharp wits. She was glad when she had the
kitchen once. more to herself.
Ten minutes later George came in to help with the
clearing up. Of the three, Tess thought thankfully, he was
the one she would have chosen. He was quiet and elder-
brotherly, seemed to know instinctively where things were
kept, and he didn't look as ass wiping dishes. George didn't
ask probing questions or flatter her, he didn't have that
I-am-not-as-other-men attitdue. He merely rolled his shirt-
sleeves above his elbows, got on with the job and spoke
only as if she were Tess Harvey, who he had met just a
few hours ago and was glad to know.
His sandy coloring, she decided .suited him very well,
though he shouldn't have been grey at the temples just yet.
She liked his good, rugged features, his smell of tobacco
smoke, the pleasant look which wasn't quite a smile. He
was dependable, stoical and altogether nice. By the time
he had piled wood on the back of the stove for the morn-
ing and departed to attend to the boiler fire in the base-
ment, Tess was robustly partisan about George Maxwell.
She went upstairs, thinking she would have a bath and
get to bed. But through her window she saw starlight over
the lake and felt the summer breeze, and on an impulse
she slipped a cardigan over her .blouse and went down-
stairs again, and out of the back door. Keeping away from
the house she found a path to the lakeside, reached her
favorite spot and sat down on the rustic bench which was
one of the first things her father had made at Kenegan. "
She lay back with her arm along the back of the bench
and her heels dug into the soft earth. A few insects whir-
red softly, but it was very peaceful, like lots of other
summer nights she had known. There had never been
much noise in the evening at Garth House; the radio
occasionally, perhaps a guest who played some musical
instrument or sang; never a raucous noise, because the
people who came to Garth House had been white-collar
workers who found that living an outdoor life was physic-
ally tiring.
For Canada, Lake Kenegan was tiny, hardly more than
eight miles long and only two miles across at its widest
spot. Several streams spilled into it, gurgling down over
the rocks and foaming through growth in unexpected
places to form rapids, and most of its shores were lined
with Douglas firs and hemlock, spruce and white-oaks. Tess
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