|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmcjf
 

door.
I was furious with Stricklandand was indignant with myselfbecause Dirk Stroeve cut such an absurd figure
that I felt inclined to laugh.
XXVII63
But what did your wife say?
She'd gone out to do the marketing.
Is he going to let her in?
I don't know.
I gazed at Stroeve with perplexity. He stood like a schoolboy with whom a master is finding fault.
Shall I get rid of Strickland for you?
I asked.
He gave a little startand his shining face grew very red.
No. You'd better not do anything.
He nodded to me and walked away. It was clear that for some reason he did not want to discuss the matter. I
did not understand.
XXVIII
The explanation came a week later. It was about ten o' clock at night; I had been dining by myself at a
restaurantand having returned to my small apartmentwas sitting in my parlourreading I heard the cracked
tinkling of the bellandgoing into the corridoropened the door. Stroeve stood before me.
Can I come in?
he asked.
In the dimness of the landing I could not see him very wellbut there was something in his voice that
surprised me. I knew he was of abstemious habit or I should have thought he had been drinking. I led the way
into my sitting room and asked him to sit down.
Thank God Iyilai：
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On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmeen