“Then,” Wingrave said, “we need not prolong this conversation. Forgive my suggesting, Mr. Richardson, that whilst I am on deck, the other side of the ship should prove more convenient for you!”
The young man rose, and without a word staggered off. Wingrave watched him through half-closed eyes, until he disappeared.
“It was worth trying,” he said softly to himself. “A very clever woman that! She looks forward through the years, and she sees the clouds gathering. It was a little risky, and the means were very crude. But it was worth trying!”
THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE
“Tomorrow morning,” Aynesworth remarked, “we shall land.”
Wingrave nodded.
“I shall not be sorry,” he said shortly.
Aynesworth fidgeted about. He had something to say, and he found it difficult. Wingrave gave him no encouragement. He was leaning back in his steamer chair, with his eyes fixed upon the sky line. Notwithstanding the incessant companionship of the last six days, Aynesworth felt that he had not progressed a single step towards establishing any more intimate relations between his employer and himself.
“Mrs. Travers is not on deck this afternoon,” he remarked a trifle awkwardly.