"Oh, I guess not, George. We're all taken with the foolish disease once in a while."
"But I was such a fool. The idea of my being jealous of you—a man pretty nearly old enough to be my father. No, not so old as that, of course, but—older. I don't know what ailed me, but whatever it was, I've paid for it.... She—she has hardly spoken to me since."
"I'm sorry, George."
"Yes.... Has she—has she said anything about me to you, Cap'n?"
"Why—er—no, George, not much. She and I are not—well, not very confidential, outside of business matters, that is."
"No, I suppose not. Mr. Phillips told me she had—well, that she and you were not—not as——"
"Yes, all right, all right, George; I understand. Outside of Fair Harbor managin' we don't talk of many things."
"No, that's what he said. He seemed to think you two had had some sort of quarrel—or disagreement, you know. But I never took much stock in that. After all, why should you and she be interested in the same sort of things? She isn't much older than I am, about my age really, and of course you——"
"Yes, yes," hastily. "All right.... Well, I guess your coat is middlin' dry, George. Here it is."
"Thanks. But that wasn't all I meant to say. You see, Cap'n Kendrick, I did treat you so badly and yet all the time I've had such confidence in you. Ever since you gave me that advice the night of the theatricals I've—well, somehow I've felt as if a fellow could depend on you, you know—always, in spite of everything. Eh, why, by George, she said that very thing about you once, said it to me. She said you were so dependable. Say, that's queer, that she and I should both think the very same thing about you."