Beatrix respected him for drinking strong, black stuff with breakfast, but she would have given days of her life to have had just one smile from him then.
"I knew the one-eyed place on which we had been dumped, took charge of the three women—saving Mrs. Keene from a watery grave—and drove to the one possible inn. Quite by accident I had some money on me. Helene and I did what we could to soothe Mrs. Keene but she took to bed and sprang a high temperature. The local doctor attended her and called it a nervous breakdown and that's what, being in the confidence of you both, I believe it is. Mrs. Larpent surprised me by being very kind and sympathetic, which shows how foolish it is to judge a woman by her jewelry and the way she does her hair. We have had a very worrying time. Finally I made up my mind to hire a car and drive along the coast until I came level with you. I started before daybreak and here I am. Mrs. Keene never ceases to call for Beatrix and I promised to bring her back. You will both help me to keep my promise, I know."
"Well, of course," said Franklin.
"Well, of course," echoed Beatrix. Conceive it, Beatrix,—an echo! Love plays strange tricks upon humanity.
Franklin went on eating. "We leave on the big launch in twenty minutes. We shall drive back in your car and stay at the inn until the Galatea anchors off the quay."
"Thank you," said Malcolm. "The sight of Beatrix will do Mrs. Keene more good than buckets of medicine."
Beatrix turned to Franklin. "Does 'we' include you?" she asked, with what Malcolm thought was a most curious and startling note of humbleness.
"Rather," said Franklin.
Whereupon Beatrix began to eat.
Sitting in the shade of the veranda of the inn Ida Larpent killed time with a new sense of hope.