"Doesn't it strike you you've postponed it a bit?"
"Dare say. We're offered every inducement to postpone it. We Americans are as pleased with Europe as children at a fair. We run up and down your marts with our purses out, delighted, astonished at your wares, at your ways; we want a souvenir from every booth, we want a peep at every side-show, we think it impossible ever to tire of the merry-go-round." His voice dropped. "When the night comes we're ready to go home."
"Night? Niaiserie!"
Gano jumped up and paced the deck.
"I say, Henri, do you mind going back to Marseilles? If you do, mind, I must—"
"Of course I don't mind. It'll give you time to recover on the way."
He laughed good-naturedly.
His companion paced silently up and down in the fading light.
"I've known other fellows," De Poincy went on, after a long silence—"plenty of others, get rather feverish about the U. S. A., but I didn't expect it of you."
"Oh, I'm just like the rest."