“You’re very wet,” she said severely; “you ought not to sit about in such things. Wait a moment. I’ll get you a great-coat of my father’s.”
She sped lightly up the stairs, and returning with a long, heavy coat, held it out to him.
“That’ll keep you dry,” she remarked as the skipper, after a few slight remonstrances, began to put it on. She held the other sleeve up for him and watched, with the satisfaction of a philanthropist, as he buttoned it up. Then she opened the door.
“You’ll give my respects to Mrs. Gething?” said the skipper.
“Certainly. She’ll be sorry she wasn’t in. Are you staying here long?”
“About three days.”
Annis pondered.
“She’s going out to-morrow,” she said tentatively.
“I shall be in the town the day after on business,” said the skipper. “If it wouldn’t be troubling you I might look in. Good-bye.”
He shook hands confusedly, wondering whether he had gone too far; and, as the door closed behind him, put his hands in Captain Gething’s pockets and went off in a brown study. Slowly and distinctly as he went along the various things grouped themselves together in his mind, and he began to think aloud.