He was anxious to
know how the bishop was feeling after yesterday's attack of sunstroke.
"I have been blaming myself bitterly for dragging you out," he began.
"I--really--"
"Don't think about it! I shall be better soon. I'll remain indoors
to-day."
"You are not looking quite yourself just yet. What a fool I was! I
can't tell you how sorry I am."
"Not worth talking about. You'll stay to luncheon?"
The news of Muhlen's disappearance was spread about that same evening,
and created no surprise whatever. Foreigners had a knack of coming to
the island and mysteriously vanishing again; it was quite the regular
thing to run up accounts all around and then clear out. Hotel-keepers,
aware of this idiosyncrasy on the part of distinguished guests,
arranged their scale of charges accordingly; they made the prices so
high that the honest paid for the dishonest, as with English tailors.
The other tradespeople of the place--the smiling confectioner, the
simple-minded bootmaker and good-natured stationer, the ever-polite
hosier--they all worked on the same principle.
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