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And in the midst of his argument Hazel bade him a curt "good evening" and walked on. Barrow kept step with her. Grinell gave it up for a bad job evidently, for he turned back. They walked five blocks without a word. Hazel glanced at Barrow now and then, and observed with an uncomfortable sinking of her heart that he was sullen, openly resentful, suspicious.
Right at the start she found herself resenting Barrow's tone, his manner. She had done nothing to warrant suspicion from him. But she loved him, and she hoped she could convince him that it was no more than a passing unpleasantness, for which she was nowise to blame. "Hang it!" Barrow growled, before they had traversed the first block. "Here comes Grinell!
There were a couple of other girls, and Roy Grinell things were just about starting up when I came away!" Jim rose, and kicked the scattered ends of a log toward the flame. "I've not got much use for Hazzard," he observed, frowning. Babcock gave a surprised and vacant laugh. "Gosh! I thought all you people were good friends!" "Hazzard's an ass," observed Jim irritably.
"I am not in the least concerned with what the papers print or what the people say. I absolutely refuse to discuss the matter." Grinell continued to point out with the persistence and persuasive logic of a good newspaper man bent on learning what his paper wants to know the desirability of her giving forth a statement.
Another one of the civil administration crowd almost exactly repeated Jules Keaveney's words at Skilk: "What the hell was Intelligence doing; sleeping?" "General von Schlichten," Colonel Grinell took oblique cognizance of the question. "You've just made, by implication, a most grave charge against my department. If you're not mistaken in what you've just said, I deserve to be court-martialled."
I suppose that old cat of a landlady pointed us out. No dodging him now." "There's no earthly reason why I should dodge him, as you put it," Hazel replied stiffly. "I'm not an escaped criminal." Barrow shrugged his shoulders in a way that made Hazel bring her teeth together and want to shake him. Grinell by then was hurrying up with long strides. Hat in hand, he bowed to her.
"Miss Hazel Weir, I believe?" he interrogated. "Yes," she confirmed. "I'm on the Times, Miss Weir," Grinell went straight to the business in hand. "You are aware, I presume, that Mr. Andrew Bush willed you a sum of money under rather peculiar conditions that is, the bequest was worded in a peculiar way. Probably you have seen a reference to it in the papers. It has caused a great deal of interest.
Murillo conversed bi-lingually, just as I've heard General von Schlichten and King Kankad talking to one another. I haven't any idea whether or not Gorkrink could read Lingua Terra, or, if so, what papers or plans he might have seen." "Just a minute, Paula," he said. "Colonel Grinell, what does your branch have on this Gorkrink?"
The day was warm, and only wooden shutters screened the big window that gave on one of the club's wide porches. Julia, humming contentedly to herself, presently became aware that there were chairs just outside the window, and girls in the chairs Barbara Toland and Ted, and Miss Grinell and Miss Hazzard, and one or two Julia did not know. "Yes, Mother's a darling," Barbara was saying.
This individual turned in at the gate, bestowing a nod upon Barrow and a keen glance at her as he passed. "That's Grinell, from the Times," Barrow muttered sourly. "Come on; let's get away from here. I suppose he's after you for an interview. Everybody in Granville's talking about that legacy, it seems to me." Hazel turned in beside him silently.
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