"Good-bye," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm sorry we ever dropped across one another."
Le Breton made no reply. Cold and unsmiling, he watched her.
There was a brief silence.
Outside, the sea sobbed and splashed like tears against the vessel's side. But all the tears in the world could not wash the black stain from him.
As they stood looking at one another, a verse came and sang like a dirge in Pansy's head:
What are we waiting for? Oh, my heart,
Kiss me straight on the brow and part:
Again! Again, my heart, my heart
What are we waiting for, you and I?
A pleading look—a stifled cry—
Good-bye for ever. Good-bye, good-bye.
"Good-bye," she said again.
Then he smiled his cold, cruel smile.
"No, Pansy. I say—au revoir."
Ignoring her outstretched hand, he bowed. Then, after one long look at her, he turned and was gone.