Some one had been in the house. The breakfast dishes were washed, the
dust cleared away, the floor swept, his bed made. He wondered, but
gave credit to Lawanne. It was like Archie to send his Chinese boy to
perform those tasks.
But it was Myra, he discovered by and by. He came off the hill in
mid-afternoon two days later and found her clearing up the kitchen.
"You don't mind, do you?" she asked. "I have nothing much to do at
home, and it seems a shame for everything here to be neglected. When
is Doris coming back?"
"I don't know exactly. Perhaps two or three weeks, perhaps as many
months."
"But her eyes will be all right again?"
"So they say."
Hollister went out and sat on the front doorstep. His mind sought to
span the distance to Vancouver. He wondered what Doris was doing. He
could see her sitting in a shaded room. He could see young Robert
waving fat arms out of the cushioned depths of his carriage. He could
see the sun glittering on the sea that spread away westward, from
beneath the windows of the house where they lived.
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