"That's right. Drink this and close your eyes again."
Cecily drank obediently and fell asleep. Twenty-four hours later the Cruiser was moving slowly up a river to her berth alongside a wharf. Cecily, clothed and in her right mind, stood aft in a deserted spot by the ensign-staff and stared at the dingy warehouses and quaysides ashore as they slid past.
Armitage came across the deck towards her; Cecily saw him coming and took a long breath. Then, woman-like, she spoke first:
"I haven't had an opportunity to thank you yet," she said prettily, "for giving up your cabin to me—and—and all your kindness."
Armitage stood squarely in front of her, a big, kindly man who was going to be badly hurt and more than half expected it.
"There is a curious fatality about all this," he said. "It was no kindness of either yours or mine." He glanced over her head at the rapidly approaching wharf ahead and then at her face.
"For eighteen months," he said, speaking rather quickly, "I've been like the prophet Jonah—looking for a sign. I looked to you for it, Miss Cecily," he said, "and I can't truthfully say it showed itself in a single word or look or gesture." He took a deep breath. "I'm not going to let you tell me I'm labouring under any misapprehensions. But this"—he made a little comprehensive gesture—"this is too much like the hand of Fate to disregard. Miss Cecily," he said, "little Miss Cecily, you've just twisted your fingers round my heart and I can't loose them."
"Please," said Cecily, "ah, no, please don't…." Some irresponsible imp in her intelligence made her want to tell him that it wasn't Jonah who looked for a sign.
"Listen," said Armitage. He was literally holding her before him by the sheer strength of his kindly, compelling personality. "When this racket started—this war—I told them at the Admiralty my age was forty-five. It was a lie—I am fifty-two. I've knocked about the world; I know men and cities and the places where there are neither. But I've lived clean all my life and I was never gladder of it than I am at this moment…."
Cecily had a conviction that unless she could stop him she would have to start crying very soon. But there were no words somehow that seemed adequate to the situation.