Ackland, glad to escape notice, was staggering
off to his bath-house when several ladies, more mindful of his
part in the affair than the men had been, overtook him with a fire
of questions and plaudits.
"Please leave me alone," he said almost savagely, without looking
around.
"What a bear he is! Any one else would have been a little
complacent over such an exploit," they chorused, as they followed
the unconscious girl, who was now being carried to the hotel.
Ackland locked the door of his little apartment and sank panting
on the bench. "Maledictions on her!" he muttered. "At one time
there was a better chance of her being fatal to me than to Munson
with his yellow-fever tragedy in prospect. Her recklessness to-day
was perfectly insane. If she tries it again she may drown for all
that I care, or at least ought to care." His anger appeared to act
like a tonic, and he was soon ready to return to the house. A
dozen sprang forward to congratulate him, but they found such
impatience and annoyance at all reference to the affair that with
many surmises the topic was dropped.
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