“She smiled faintly, almost awkwardly as if she were totally unused to smiling, at my cheap jocularity. Then she said with that forced precision, a sort of conscious primness:
“ ‘I didn’t want him to know.’
“I approved heartily. Quite right. Much better. Let him ever remain under his misapprehension which was so much more flattering for him.
“I tried to keep it in the tone of comedy; but she was, I believe, too simple to understand my intention. She went on, looking down.
“ ‘Oh! You think so? When I saw you I didn’t know why you were here. I was glad when you spoke to me because this is exactly what I wanted to ask you for. I wanted to ask you if you ever meet Captain Anthony—by any chance—anywhere—you are a sailor too, are you not?—that you would never mention—never—that—that you had seen me over there.’
“ ‘My dear young lady,’ I cried, horror-struck at the supposition. ‘Why should I? What makes you think I should dream of …’
“She had raised her head at my vehemence. She did not understand it. The world had treated her so dishonourably that she had no notion even of what mere decency of feeling is like. It was not her fault. Indeed, I don’t know why she should have put her trust in anybody’s promises.
“But I thought it would be better to promise. So I assured her that she could depend on my absolute silence.
“ ‘I am not likely to ever set eyes on Captain Anthony,’ I added with conviction—as a further guarantee.
“She accepted my assurance in silence, without a sign. Her gravity had in it something acute, perhaps because of that chin. While we were still looking at each other she declared:
“ ‘There’s no deception in it really. I want you to believe that if I am here, like this, today, it is not from fear. It is not!’
“ ‘I quite understand,’ I said. But her firm yet self-conscious gaze became doubtful. ‘I do,’ I insisted. ‘I understand perfectly that it was not of death that you were afraid.’
“She lowered her eyes slowly, and I went on:
“ ‘As to life, that’s another thing. And I don’t know that one ought to blame you very much—though it seemed rather an excessive step. I wonder now if it isn’t the ugliness rather than the pain of the struggle which …’
“She shuddered visibly: ‘But I do blame myself,’ she exclaimed with feeling. ‘I am ashamed.’ And, dropping her head, she looked in a moment the very picture of remorse and shame.
“ ‘Well, you will be going away from all its horrors,’ I said. ‘And surely you are not afraid of the sea. You are a sailor’s granddaughter, I understand.’
“She sighed deeply. She remembered her grandfather only a little. He was a clean-shaven man with a ruddy complexion and long, perfectly white hair. He used to take her on his knee, and putting his face near hers, talk to her in loving whispers. If only he were alive now … !
“She remained silent for a while.
“ ‘Aren’t you anxious to see the ship?’ I asked.
“She lowered her head still more so that I could not see anything of her face.
“ ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured.
“I had already the suspicion that she did not know her own feelings. All this work of the merest chance had been so unexpected, so sudden. And she had nothing to fall back upon, no experience but such as to shake her belief in every human being. She was dreadfully and pitifully forlorn. It was almost in order to comfort my own depression that I remarked cheerfully:
“ ‘Well, I know of somebody who must be growing extremely anxious to see you.’
“ ‘I am before my time,’ she confessed simply, rousing herself. ‘I had nothing to do. So I came out.’
“I had the sudden vision of a shabby, lonely little room at the other end of the town. It had grown intolerable to her restlessness. The mere thought of it oppressed her. Flora de Barral was looking frankly at her chance confidant.
“ ‘And I came this way,’ she went on. ‘I appointed the time myself yesterday, but Captain Anthony would not have minded. He told me he was going to look over some business papers till I came.’
“The idea of the son of the poet, the rescuer of the most forlorn damsel of modern times, the man of violence, gentleness and generosity, sitting up to his neck in ship’s accounts amused me. ‘I am sure he would not have minded,’ I said, smiling. But the girl’s stare was sombre, her thin white face seemed pathetically careworn.
“ ‘I can hardly believe yet,’ she murmured anxiously.
“ ‘It’s quite real. Never fear,’ I said encouragingly, but had to change my tone at once. ‘You had better go down that way a little,’ I directed her abruptly.
“I had seen Fyne come striding out of the hotel door. The intelligent girl, without staying to ask questions, walked away from me quietly down one street while I hurried on to meet Fyne coming up the other at his efficient pedestrian gait. My object was to stop him getting as far as the corner. He must have been thinking too hard to be aware of his surroundings. I put myself in his way, and he nearly walked into me.
“ ‘Hallo!’ I said.
“His surprise was extreme. ‘You here! You don’t mean to say you have been waiting for me?’
“I said negligently that I had been detained by unexpected business in the neighbourhood, and thus happened to catch sight of him coming out.
“He stared at me with solemn distraction, obviously thinking of something else. I suggested that he had better take the next city-ward tramcar. He was inattentive, and I perceived that he was profoundly perturbed. As Miss
