John Dene of Toronto: A Comedy of Whitehall

by Herbert George Jenkins

CHAPTER XIX

COMMANDER JOHN DENE GOES TO BOURNEMOUTH

I

Late one afternoon when Dorothy and Mrs. West were walking along the Christchurch Road on their way back to the boarding-house for dinner, Dorothy suddenly gave vent to an exclamation, and with both hands clutched her mother's arm so fiercely that she winced with the pain.

"Look, mother," she cried, "it's——"

Following the direction of her daughter's eyes Mrs. West saw walking sturdily towards them on the other side of the road, a man in the uniform of a naval commander. In his mouth was a cigar, from which he was puffing volumes of smoke. With a little cry Mrs. West recognised him. It was John Dene of Toronto.

There was no mistaking that truculent, aggressive air of a man who knows his own mind, and is determined that every one else shall know it too.

Suddenly Dorothy released her mother's arm and, running across the road, planted herself directly in John Dene's path.

"Mr. Dene!" she cried, when he was within a yard or two of her.