“That is so; appetite grows by what it feeds on.”
Clara wrung her hands passionately.
“Cannot we get away from here?” she asked.
“Not for three days, when the steamer for Suez calls here.”
“Do get home; cease these wanderings; the incessant worry is killing me—it may be fun for you. I can no longer participate in it.”
“Be patient.”
“Think of it, Jack. I am a woman.”
“You’re a brick. You have got all the grit of the new woman in you, still you have had enough of roughing it. What we are going through is not like riding a bicycle in bloomer costume. You shall have your wish as soon as possible.”
“Fix a date.”
“Haven’t I said three days from hence when the homeward bound steamer calls?”