“I’m thinking ye had better sit still a while and smoke,” he said.
Carroll was glad to do so, and he and Nairn conferred together, until the latter was called to the telephone.
“Ye can have the Brodick boat at noon to-morrow,” he said on his return.
“That won’t do,” Carroll objected heavily. “Send Whitney round again; I must sail to-night.”
He had some difficulty in getting out the words, and when he rose his eyes were half closed. Walking unsteadily, he crossed the room and sank into a big lounge.
“I think,” he resumed, “if you don’t mind, I’ll go to sleep.”
Nairn merely nodded, and when, after sitting silent a minute or two, he went softly out, the worn-out man was already wrapped in profound slumber. As it happened, Nairn received another call by telephone and left in haste for his office, without speaking to his wife; with the result that the latter and Evelyn, returning to the room by and by in search of Carroll, found him lying still. The elder lady raised her hand in warning as she bent over the sleeper, and then, taking up a light rug, spread it gently over him, Evelyn, too, was stirred to sudden pity, for the man’s attitude was eloquent of exhaustion.
They withdrew gently and had reached the corridor when Mrs. Nairn turned to the girl.
“When he first came in, ye blamed that man for deserting his partner,” she said.
Evelyn confessed it, and her hostess smiled meaningly. “Are ye no rather ready to blame?”