"I learned the trick from a little Italian who kept a clothing store in the Bowery. It was the only useful thing he could do."
"Look at the rain!"
Jimmy leaned forward.
"Molly——"
"I wonder if poor Mr. Wesson got indoors before it began. I do hope he did."
Jimmy sat back again. He scowled. Every man is liable on occasion to behave like a sulky schoolboy. Jimmy did so.
"You seem to spend most of your time thinking about Wesson," he said savagely.
Molly had begun to hum a tune to herself as she watched the rain. She stopped. A profound and ghastly silence brooded over the canoe.
"Molly," said Jimmy at last, "I'm sorry."
No reply.