"Oh, he has plenty of time. Half an hour at least. Why, once I lost fifty thousand in the market, broke my steering gear running over a fat policeman, was arrested, taken to court and bailed out and all within twenty minutes. Jack's got time to squander."
There was sadness in the violet eyes.
"It will be very lonely when he's gone—very lonely," she mused, slowly.
"Well, it will be as lonely for him as it will for you," Blake returned; "which is a doubtful consolation, but one that most women don't have."
Muriel had wandered to the rail.
"Oh, I see him!" she cried, suddenly. "There he is! Daddy! Daddy, dear! … He's right there on the gangway—right behind that fat lady— the one with the red nose. I'm going to meet him."
Sturdy little legs started to follow the summons of impulsive little brain. But her mother detained her.
"No, dearie," she objected. "You'll get lost He'll be here in a moment, now."
"Not unless he can get by that lady," protested the child. "He's—he's—"
"Pocketed is the word you want, Muriel," assisted Blake. He was looking in the direction which the child had indicated. Suddenly, he exclaimed: