The captain turned. The man at the other table caught his eye, smiled, and rose. As he approached Jane noticed with a touch of pity that the man limped oddly. His left leg seemed to slue about queerly just before it touched the floor. 64
“Well, well! Captain Cleigh!”
Dennison accepted the proffered hand, but coldly.
“On the way back to the States?”
“Yes.”
“The Wanderer is down the river. I suppose you’ll be going home on her?”
“My orders prevent that.”
“Run into the old boy?”
“Naturally,” with a wry smile at Jane. “Miss Norman, Mr. Cunningham. Where the shark is, there will be the pilot fish.”
The stranger turned his eyes toward Jane’s. The beauty of those dark eyes startled her. Fire opals! They seemed to dig down into her very soul, as if searching for something. He bowed gravely and limped back to his table.