Plantation Doctor by Kathryn Blair Page B

occupied, and so were the several canvas chairs which faced them.
    Lyn made her way round towards the spectators. Roger stood up to give her his chair, but Adrian’s was nearer. She murmured her thanks and sank into the seat. There was a shuffle of rearrangement, and when they were all settled again, Lyn found Roger on her right and Adrian a foot or two away to the left.
    Roger bent nearer and whispered, “They played the game without you, Lyn. Peter partnered Mr. Baird in your place and Mrs. Baird and Dr. Sinclair opposed them. I said I thought we ought to hang on a while for you, but the doctor wouldn’t.”
    “Oh!” She spoke sharply, with vexation. It was only ten minutes to five, more than an hour till dusk. “No definite time was mentioned. I was merely invited to play tennis between four and six.”
    “I know. I’m sorry.”
    For some time after that both were quiet. A fast match was in progress and she tried to give it all her attention. Adrian was conversing sporadically with the man on his other side, and Mrs. Baird was well down the line, only her bright, darting fan visible.
    The match ended in a burst of clapping. Two young men were on their feet, urging Lyn and Roger to join them. Smilingly, she shook her head.
    “I’d slow you down. I’ll watch you instead.”
    “But you came out to play,” one of them protested. “You’ll make the game more interesting.”
    Again she declined, more decisively. Roger and the other two found a fourth player and went on to the court. The piccanin who was ball-boy scurried round the wire netting doing his job. A racquet was spun and the game began.
    After a few minutes Adrian leaned towards Lyn, his tone cool and mocking. “That was wise of you. You look as if you’ve already had enough sport for one afternoon.”
    Stung, she answered. “I don’t think so. I’d have played if there had been another woman. But I may have had enough of Denton.”
    “That would be a pity,” he said casually, “because I’m rather afraid you’ve quite a bit more of it to endure. I received word today that the swamps have widened and risen in the Akasi area and postal delays are inevitable. It may be another week before Mrs. Latimer receives my letter.”
    Lyn turned her head quickly his way. His straight mouth had thinned and curved almost to a sneer, the stony eyes stared at her critically and without friendliness. A premonitory shiver ran down her spine and, wordlessly, she turned back to contemplation of the game.
    At last dusk closed in and the courts cleared; the piccanin accepted his pay and ran off. Everyone was standing, moving in one direction, towards Adrian’s house.
    Lyn heard his say quietly, at her back. “You’ll come with the others for a drink, won’t you, Miss Russell? I dare say you’re more in need of black coffee than a cocktail, but I expect we can run to it.”
    Electricity was in the air, a small circle of it which seemed to encompass Adrian and herself in the midst of the unwitting crowd. To refuse to enter his domain would be to admit defeat at his hands; it would also appear odd to the rest. Besides, she felt that that was what he wanted and his manner put her into a mood of hostility. So, her heart beating unevenly and her pulses drumming a little with annoyance, she strolled with the others along the footpath which had been worn from the courts to the gateless path which wound among the trees to Adrian’s white abode.
    The house was even larger than Lyn had guessed. It stretched away under the heavy, sun-resistant roof; with a hundred-foot by ten veranda in the centre and a solid block of excellently finished stucco at each end. Like those of the other houses, the windows were glassless but mosquito-wired and shuttered.
    As they entered the veranda, lights sprang on and some of the shutters were pulled wide by white-clad servants. Following Mrs. Baird, Lyn walked into a lounge as big as the ballroom at the club. Except for a massive inlaid