The Silver Clasp

Clare was not wearing well. She had lost her color and got thin. The
climate was enervating, and Englishwomen who stayed in the country long
felt it more than men, but this did not quite account for her jaded look.

"I am afraid you are feeling the hot weather, and perhaps you have been
indoors too much," he said. "I must try to take you about more when I
come back."

"Then you are going away! Where to?"

Kenwardine would have preferred to hide his destination, but since this
would be difficult it seemed safer not to try and there was no reason why
his household should not know.

"To Jamaica. I have some business in Kingston, but it won't keep me
long."

"Can you take me?"

"I think not," said Kenwardine, who knew his visit would be attended by
some risk. "For one thing, I'll be occupied all the time, and as I must
get back as soon as possible, may have to travel by uncomfortable boats.
You will be safe with Lucille."

"Oh, yes," Clare agreed with languid resignation. "Still, I would have
liked a change."

Kenwardine showed no sign of yielding and she said nothing more. She had
chosen to live with him, and although she had not known all that the
choice implied, must obey his wishes. For all that, she longed to get
away. It had cost her more than she thought to refuse Dick, and she felt
that something mysterious and disturbing was going on. Kenwardine's
carelessness had not deceived her; she had watched him when he was off
his guard and knew that he was anxious.