Not that her cousin
objected to her having a little fling before the fatal day. But
why couldn't the girl do her flirting with Beauchamp instead of
with this wild socialist?
Valencia reflected that at any rate she had done her duty.
Part 2
Jeff was tramping the deck, his hands in his coat pockets, waiting
for the trumpeter to fling out the two bars of music that would
summon him to breakfast. He walked vigorously? drawing in deep
breaths of the salt sea air. His thoughts were of Alice Frome. He
was a lover, and in his imagination she embodied all things
beautiful. Her charm flowed through him, pierced him with delight.
When he heard music his mind flew to her. It voiced the rhythm of
her motions and the sound of her warm laughter. The sunshine but
reflected the golden gleams of light in her wavy hair.
As he swung round the smoking saloon Jeff came face to face with
Alice. He turned and caught step with her. The coat she wore came
to her ankles, but it could not conceal her light, strong tread
nor the long lines of the figure that gave her the grace of a
captured wood nymph.
"Only five hundred miles from Verden. By night we ought to be in
wireless communication," he suggested.
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