“There was a sweetheart, eh?”
“Why—yes, sir.”
“Still the faithful sailor?”
“Mr. Barnes, sir.”
“This is for a wedding gift.”
She took a small package from him, and opening it, stood open-mouthed before a pretty little necklace of French beads.
“Oh, Doctor! Oh! I never saw nothing so grand!”
“You are a good girl, Maria, and this Mr. Barnes is a lucky man.”
“Thank you, sir,” and she went quietly out of the room, leaving the two men together.
“Now, Martin!” He turned to Dr. Barnhelm gravely. “Let us have it out.” He seated himself beside him and looked him squarely in the face. “You do not try to live? Eh?”