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He had intended asking her plans. Now it was unnecessary. And he had thought at once of that last night when he had called at Hilmer's, remembering the sprawling magazine on the floor, the bowl of wanton flowers upon the mantelshelf, the debonairly flung mandarin skirt clinging to the piano these had been the first marks of conquest.
He used to long for a simplicity that would make him accept Hilmer's favors on their face value. Why couldn't one believe in friendship and disinterestedness? Perhaps it would have been easier if he had lacked any knowledge of Hilmer's philosophy of life.
"Including your share in the Hilmer business?" Brauer had the grace to wince. "Well, there was nothing said absolutely." "And what did you figure was Hilmer's reason for ... well, wanting me to summer at Fairview?" Brauer toyed with a spoon. "There could only be one reason." "Don't be afraid. You mean that my wife..." "Yes ... just that!"
A scuffle followed, blows, blood drawn. Upon the slippery deck Hilmer had fallen prone in an attempt to place a swinging blow. The Finn had seized this opportunity and flung a bit of pig iron upon Hilmer's sprawling right hand. Hilmer had leaped to his feet at once and, seizing the bar of iron in his dripping fingers, had crushed the bully's head with one sure, swift blow.
Hilmer was the last woman in the world that Helen would have found bearable, much less attractive... He concluded that Helen was enjoying the novelty of watching Mrs. Hilmer nibble at a discreet feminine frivolity to which she was unaccustomed. After a while he looked for outward changes in Mrs. Hilmer's make-up.
Starratt couldn't remember anything in the recital of Hilmer's past performance or his present attitude that dovetailed with benevolence... He retreated, baffled from these speculative tilts, to the refuge of a comforting conviction that fortunately no man was thoroughly consistent.
But Hilmer's wavering was only momentary; he was not a man to waste time in argument when he discovered that such a weapon was futile. "Then I understand you don't want the business?" "Not on those terms." Hilmer shrugged. Helen leaned forward and put out a hand. "Let's see!" she half commanded. Hilmer gave her the blue print and the package of memoranda.
The maid made a slight grimace and put her hand protectingly upon Mrs. Hilmer's chair. Mrs. Hilmer shifted about impatiently. "Never mind, Hilda," she snapped out. "I am not afraid." The maid shrugged and departed. "I have wanted to see her," Mrs. Hilmer went on, coldly. "But who could I send? ... Few people understand her life." "Ah, then you have guessed?"
"Hilmer's been called suddenly to his office on business," he said, brusquely. She turned and faced him. "You'd better put those papers in the safe. I'll take them back myself to-morrow. I can't see what possessed you to insist on looking them over, anyway." She squeezed the orange in her hand. "Well, when we get ready to handle the business I want to know something about it." He stared.
He crossed over and turned the knob, admitting a man standing upon the threshold. "Is this Mr. Starratt?" the stranger began. Fred nodded. "Well, I'm sorry to bring bad news, but there's been a nasty accident. Mr. Hilmer's car went over a bank near Montara this afternoon... Mrs. Hilmer was hurt pretty badly, but everybody else is fairly well off... Your wife asked me to drop in and see you.
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