He peered round at her to see how she was taking his foolery; and in a moment impulsively she wheeled back, the distress banished from her face, the old steadfast courage in its place.
"Oh, Charles, thou king of clowns!" she said. "What a weird comforter you are!"
"King of philosophers you mean!" he retorted. "It's taken me a long while to achieve my wisdom. I don't often throw my pearls about in this reckless fashion."
She laughed. "How dare you say that to me? But I suppose I ought to be humbly grateful. I am as a matter of fact intensely so."
"Oh, no!" he said. "Not that—from you!"
His eyes dwelt upon her with a sort of humorous tenderness; she met them without embarrassment. "You've done me good, Charles," she said. "Somehow I knew you would—knew I could count on you. You will go on standing by?"
He executed a deep bow, his hand upon his heart. "Maintenant et toujours, ma Juliette!" he assured her gallantly. "But don't forget the moral of my parable! When you jump—jump high!"
She nodded thoughtfully. "No, I shan't forget. You're a good friend,
Charles Rex."
"I may be," said Saltash enigmatically.