A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. “Thank you, ma’am. you did what you had to do. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper. “So it’s like you’re a dead end?” He asked innocently. You’re a lady all right and tight, and nothing anyone does can take that away from you. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre.
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