“You know, Dick, the attention that seems like a trifle to you, with a life full of interests, may look like a serious affair to her.”
“See here, old man, you needn’t be so snippy. Must I confine my philanthropy to the old and ugly to keep it above suspicion? I’m just so far interested in this, and no more, that I’m sorry for that little girl, and if I saw a chance, I’d do her a good turn, as I pass along; and if I didn’t think more of you than of any other man, I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of rendering so much of an account of myself.”
Ellery was silent and looked at the river with its whirlpools, at the cliffs, gray with stone and pale green with May, and sometimes at Dick, who leaned forward with his chin in his hand, apparently absorbed in thought, but occasionally shooting a glance at Lena who laughed and chattered with Mr. Nolan in a sort of intermittent fever.
The steamer tooted and splashed at the landing below the fort, and turned herself about for the return trip. Sand-martins dropped from their holes in the cliffs and skimmed across the bows, and the breeze blew fresher as they headed up stream. Still the two friends sat in silence, though once Percival looked across and laughed, as though he enjoyed the other’s seriousness.
“Norris, you are funny,” he said.
“Why?”
“You always see consequences to things.”
“Most things have both causes and effects,” Ellery retorted, ruffled.
“I deny it,” said Dick.
When they creaked at the dock, Dick suddenly pushed forward so that he almost touched Lena in the crowd that was hurrying to shore.