Sheila had
practically everything in life to learn, and he did not propose to be her
teacher.
His cigarette was finished and he got up. The yacht was speeding like a
winged thing on her way. There was never any fuss of departure when
Larpent was in command. He stood for a few seconds in indecision,
contemplating going up on to the bridge for a word with his captain and a
glance round. But some fantastic scruple deterred him. He had made his
farewell. He did not wish to see Valrosa again. He turned instead and
went to his cabin.
All the appointments of the yacht were of the most luxurious order. She
possessed every imaginable contrivance for the comfort of those who
voyaged in her. Her state-cabins were a miracle of elegance and ease.
Saltash never took a valet when he went for a voyage. The steward
attended to his clothes, and he waited on himself. He liked as much space
as he could get both on deck and below.
He pushed open the door of his cabin and felt for the switch of the
electric light. But he did not press it when he found it. Something made
him change his mind. The faint light of stars upon rippling water came
to him through the open porthole, and he shut himself in and stepped
forward to the couch beneath it to look forth.
Pages:
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31