Haxton's reputation should remain unsullied that day if
it lay in his power. He lit a cigar, wheeled his chair slightly, and
sat facing her, at a distance of ten or twelve feet. The open railing
of the veranda was half as far away on his right and on Mrs. Haxton's
left. Through the narrow rails they both could see the opposite
pavement, with its dun-colored throng of natives and the gloomy
interiors of several small shops, while the white walls and close-
latticed windows of the upper stories seemed to be bleaching visibly in
the slanting rays of a fierce afternoon sun.
Mrs. Haxton, apparently giving no heed to Royson, glanced listlessly at
the wrappers and postmark. The task seemed to prove uninteresting. Soon
she selected a periodical, and was about to open It when a remark from
Irene caught her ear.
"That Italian standing in front of the grain-dealer's place seems to be
rooted to the ground with astonishment at seeing strangers in the
hotel," said the girl, turning her smiling face towards her companion.
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