He was very grave. “About his terms?”
“About his terms of course!” she laughed. “Not about his religious opinions.”
His gratitude was too great for gaiety. “You really, in your beautiful sympathy, guessed my fix?”
But she declined to be too solemn. “Dear Captain Yule, it all quite stuck out of you!”
“You mean I floundered like a drowning man——?”
Well, she consented to have meant that. “Till I plunged in!”
He appeared there for a few seconds, to see her again take the jump and to listen again to the splash; then, with an odd, sharp impulse, he turned his back. “You saved me.”
She wouldn’t deny it—on the contrary. “What a pity, now, I haven’t a daughter!”
On this he slowly came round again. “What should I do with her?”
“You’d treat her, I hope, better than you’ve treated Miss Prodmore.”