“Quite well,” said the girl. “If you take me home, Sam, you shall see her, and be forgiven by her, too.”
“Thankee, miss,” said the gratified steward.
“And what about your foot, Wilks?” said Hardy, somewhat taken aback by this arrangement.
“Foot, sir?” said the unconscious Mr. Wilks; “wot foot?”
“Why, the bad one,” said Hardy, with a significant glance.
“Ho, that one?” said Mr. Wilks, beating time and waiting further revelations.
“Do you think you ought to use it much?” inquired Hardy.
Mr. Wilks looked at it, or, to be more exact, looked at both of them, and smiled weakly. His previous idea recurred to him with renewed force now, and several things in the young man's behaviour, hitherto disregarded, became suddenly charged with significance. Miss Nugent looked on with an air of cynical interest.
“Better not run any risk,” said Hardy, gravely. “I shall be very pleased to see Miss Nugent home, if she will allow me.”
“What is the matter with it?” inquired Miss Nugent, looking him full in the face.