"Returning to that little matter of the thousand pounds," said Trent, "don't you think you might pay that half-quid you've owed me for the last eighteen months?"
"Great Scot, I thought you'd forgotten it. 'Pon my soul you have a tenacious memory, Trent," answered Lawless. "However," he went on condescendingly, "I'll see what I can do for you. What with the super-tax, the increased duty on motor-cars, and other drains on a fellow's income——"
He broke off abruptly, crossed to the window and stood watching a patrol boat which had just come fussily into harbour. When Trent joined him there he was puzzled to find his senior plunged in gloom.
"Well, for a fellow who's just come into money——" he remarked in disgust.
"Do you remember," asked Lawless dreamily, "how gallantly she behaved in that scrap with the Lansitz and her attendant destroyers?"
Trent stared for a moment.
"Oh, you're thinking of the old Knat," he said, a light breaking in on him.
"And again in that storm off the coast of Northumberland?"
Trent nodded; he, too, was sobered now.
"Well," said Lawless with passion, "she had a glorious end; but do you think I can exult over a paltry thousand pounds when she's at the bottom of the sea? I wouldn't have lost her, no, not for——"