Ernestine had stood by his side, always laughing
at this swift fulfilment of her prophecy, always encouraging him,
always enigmatic. Yet at the thought of her a vague sense of
trouble crept into his heart. He took a worn photograph from his
pocket and looked at it long and searchingly, and when he put it
away he sighed. It made no difference of course, but he would
rather have found her like that, the child with sweet, trustful
eyes and a laughing mouth. Was there no life at all, then, outside
this little vortex into which at her bidding he had plunged? Would
she never have been content with anything else? He looked across
the placid, blue sea to where the sun gleamed like silver on a white
sail, and sighed again. He must make himself what she would have
him. There was no life for him without her.
The captain came up for his morning chat and some of the passengers,
who eyed him with obvious respect, lingered for a moment about his
chair on their promenade. Trent lit a cigar and presently began to
stroll up and down himself. The salt sea-air was a wonderful tonic
to him after the nervous life of the last few months. He found his
spirits rapidly rising. This voyage had been undertaken in obedience
to a sudden but overpowering impulse.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190