The girl broke a biscuit into small pieces, and arranged them on the cloth. “Then I didn't mind your coming so much,” she said, in a low voice.
The skipper caught his breath and tried to gaze at the averted face.
The girl swept the crumbs aside and met his gaze squarely. “Not quite so much,” she explained.
“I've been a fool,” said the skipper. “I've been a fool. I've made myself a laughing-stock all round, but if I could have it all over again I would.”
“That can never be,” said the girl, shaking her head. “Bert wouldn't come.”
“No, of course not,” asserted the other.
The girl bit her lip. The skipper thought that he had never seen her eyes so large and shining. There was a long silence.
“Good-by,” said the girl at last, rising.
The skipper rose to follow. “Good-by,” he said, slowly; “and I wish you both every happiness.”
