Barres and Westmore exchanged conversation between their open doors while bathing and dressing.
“You know, Garry,” admitted the latter, “I feel all shaken up, yet, over that ghastly business.”
“So do I.... If they hadn’t died so gamely.... But Skeel was a man!”
“You bet he was, crazy or sane!... What a pity!... 410 And that poor devil, Soane! Did you hear them cheering there, at the last? And what superb nerve—breaking out that green flag!”
“And think of their opening on that big patrol boat! They hadn’t a chance.”
“They had no chance anyway,” said Westmore. “It meant execution if they surrendered—at least, they probably thought so. But how do you suppose that cowardly strangler, Ferez, felt when he realised that Skeel was going to fight?”
“He certainly got what was coming to him, didn’t he?” said Barres grimly. “You’ll tell Thessa, won’t you?”
“As soon as I can find her,” nodded Westmore, giving his fresh bow-tie a most killing twist.
He was ready before Barres was, and he lost no time in starting out to find Thessalie.
Barres, following him later, discovered him on the library lounge with Thessalie’s fair cheek resting against his.