"Helloa! Glad to see you about again. Fenella has gone off to the south of the island somewhere, but she'll be home for luncheon. Take a cigar? No? Not smoking yet? I must anyway."
"I've come to see you on a serious matter, Sir," said Stowell—he felt his lips trembling.
"So?"
The Governor glanced up quickly, charged his pipe and then settled himself to listen.
"You will remember the story I told you—about the man who had promised to marry a girl and then fallen in love with somebody else?"
"Perfectly."
Stowell paused a moment. His lips became pale and his hands contracted.
"Well?"
"That was my own story, Sir."
There was another moment of silence. Stowell had expected an exclamation of surprise, a clang of astonishment, but the Governor's face was still to the fire and the only sound he made was the swivelling of the pipe between his teeth.