“He will understand. I know he will be very sorry, but,” I added, firmly, “you can trust him implicitly to do the right thing.” And how I prayed that this would content her! Thank Heaven, it did.
“Yes,” she said, “I am afraid I did not say good-bye to him. You will do so?” She gave me her hand.
“One thing more,” I added, holding it, “nothing had better be said about this meeting?”
“No, no, nothing. It must never be known.”
I let go the gig’s gunwale and watched her tighten her sheet and make a tack or two to windward. Then I rowed back to the Dulcibella as hard as I could.
CHAPTER XX.
The Little Drab Book
I found Davies at the cabin table, surrounded with a litter of books. The shelf was empty, and its contents were tossed about among the cups and on the floor. We both spoke together.
“Well, what was it?”
“Well, what did she say?”
I gave way, and told my story briefly. He listened in silence, drumming on the table with a book which he held.