“Maybe I’ll go over at the same time as you,” he said. “I thought of taking a chance in Paris for a while—you can make big money in Paris.”
“In—a while?” she smiled.
“In a minute,” said Timothy grimly, “if the horse and the jockey are of the same way of thinking. I know a fellow who races pretty extensively in France. He has a horse called Flirt——”
She held out her hand for the second time.
“Timothy, you’re incorrigible,” she said.
She did not see him again for twelve months, not indeed until, after a winter spent in Madeira, she put her foot over the gangway of the s.s. Tigilanes and met the quizzical smile of the youth who was waiting to receive her.
For Timothy had been in Funchal a month, seeing but unseen, since Mary was generally in bed before the Casino woke up and play reached any exciting level.
CHAPTER XVI
TIMOTHY sat now on an upturned trunk, his elbows on the rails of the s.s. Tigilanes and his speculative eye roving the river front of Liverpool.
It was the last hour of the voyage, and Timothy, who had left Funchal with four hundred pounds in his pocket-book, had exactly three genuine shillings and a five-milreis piece of dubious quality.