'Oh yes, I know what you are thinking of. I spoke of other mines as well; still, that was my folly, and not her fault exactly. She imagined she was doing right, and after all, you know, I think we sometimes don't make enough allowance for another's point of view.'
Kenyon laughed outright.
'It seems to me you are actually defending her. My remembrance is that you didn't make much allowance for her point of view when your own point was that coil of rope in the front of the ship—those days when you wouldn't speak even to me.'
'I admit it, John. No, I'm not defending her. I have succeeded in putting her entirely out of my mind—with an effort. How about your own case, John?'
'My own case! What do you mean?'
'You know very well what I mean.'
'I suppose I do forgive the little bit of affectation, will you? but a man gets somewhat nervous when such a question is sprung upon him. My own case is just where we left it at Queenstown.'
'Haven't you seen her since?'
'No.'
'Aren't you going to?'