And instead -
"Natalie has not been well, Rodney," he said. "I rather think, if
you have anything to say to me, we would better talk alone."
Natalie went out, her draperies trailing behind her. Clayton
listened, as she moved slowly up the stairs. For the last time he
heard that soft rustling which had been the accompaniment to so
many of the most poignant hours of his life. He listened until it
had died away.
CHAPTER XLIX
For months Rudolph Klein had been living in a little Mexican town
on the border. There were really two towns, but they were built
together with only a strip of a hundred feet between. Along this
strip ran the border itself, with a tent pitched on the American
side, and patrols of soldiers guarding it. The American side was
bright and clean, orderly and self-respecting, but only a hundred
feet away, unkempt, dusty, with adobe buildings and a notorious
gambling-hell in plain view, was Mexico itself - leisurely,
improvident, not overscrupulous Mexico.
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