He bent forward, more and more puzzled, trying in vain to make out
something in the darkness, and then from under a tree, whose shadow
had hitherto been a complete concealment, there moved forward a form
so tall and bulky there could be little doubt whom it belonged to.
"John Clive--what on earth--!" Dunn muttered, his bewilderment
increasing, and the next moment he understood and had some difficulty
in preventing himself from bursting out laughing as there reached
him the unmistakable sound of a kiss lightly blown through the air.
Clive was sending a kiss through the night towards Ella's room and
his nocturnal visit was nothing more than the whim of a love-sick
youth.
With Dunn, his first amusement gave way almost at once to an extreme
annoyance.
For, in the first place, these proceedings seemed to him exceedingly
impertinent, for what possible right did Clive imagine he had to
come playing the fool like this, sighing in the dark and blowing
kisses like a baby to its mammy?
And secondly, unless he were greatly mistaken, John Clive might just
as sensibly and safely have dropped overboard from a ship in
mid-Atlantic for a swim as come to indulge his sentimentalities in
the Bittermeads garden at night.
"You silly ass!" he said in a voice that was very low, but very
distinct and very full of an extreme disgust and anger.
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