Hamilton, and had insisted on her leaving the hotel
and coming to stay with her. Everywhere that the Commissioner's
wife went, riding or driving, Mrs. Hamilton accompanied her; and
whenever he met the two women, his wife threw him a mild,
reproachful glance of martyred virtue, while the Commissioner's
wife glared upon him in stony wrath.
Hamilton took no notice of either glance, but passed them as if
neither existed. The Commissioner looked miserably guilty whenever
he encountered Hamilton's amused, penetrating eyes, and avoided
him as much as possible. The Commissioner's house was completely
shut to him; he never approached it now except on official
business, and nearly every house in the station followed its
example. The story of Mrs. Hamilton's woes and wrongs had spread
all over the community, and proved a theme of delightful and
never-ending interest to all the ladies of the station. They were
unanimous in supporting her. Not one voice was raised in favour of
Hamilton. He was a monster, a heartless libertine, given over to
all sorts of terrible vices. Tales of the fearful doings in the
desert bungalow, where Hamilton and Saidie lived the gay, bright,
joyous life of two human beings, happily mated, as Nature intended
all things to be, spread over the station, and the stony stare of
the women upon Hamilton, when they met him, mingled insensibly with
a shrinking horror that greatly amused him.
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