It may be in three or four months,
or it may be a year from now. When the war stops."
There was a long silence as the walked up and down
the swaying deck.
"Do you know," said Nora at last, "I like you, Rufus Coleman.
I don't know any good reason for it either, unless it is because
you are such a brute. Now, when I was asking you if you were
to be in London you were perfectly detestable. You know I was
anxious."
"I--detestable?" cried Coleman, feigning amazement.
"Why, what did I say?"
"It isn't so much what you said--" began Nora slowlly.
Then she suddenly changed her manner.
"Oh, well, don't let's talk about it any more. It's
too foolish. Only-you are a disagreeable person sometimes."
In the morning, as the vessel steamed up the Irish channel,
Coleman was on deck, keeping furtive watch on the cabin
stairs. After two hours of waiting, he scribbled a message on a
card and sent it below. He received an answer that Miss Black
had a headache, and felt too ill to come on deck. He went to the
smoking room. The three card-players glanced up, grinning.
"What's the matter?" asked the wine merchant. "You look
angry." As a matter of fact, Coleman had purposely wreathed
his features in a pleasant and satisfied expression, so he was
for a moment furious at the wine merchant.
"Confound the girl," he thought to himself. "She has
succeeded in making all these beggars laugh at me." He mused
that if he had another chance he would show her how
disagreeable or detestable or scampish he was under some
circumstances.
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