Jake turned and slowly walked to the window. There fell a silence between
them. He stood staring down upon the scene that Toby had gazed upon a
little earlier, but he saw nothing of it. The hardness had gone out of
his face, and a deep compassion had taken its place.
Saltash continued to smoke for several restless seconds. Finally, he
dropped the end of his cigarette into a tray and spoke.
"Anything more I can do for you?"
Jake wheeled in his massive way, and came back. "Say!" he said slowly.
"I'm kind of sorry for that little girl."
Saltash made an abrupt movement that passed unexplained. "Well?" he said.
Jake faced him squarely. "If I'd been at home," he said, "this would
never have happened. Or if it had happened--if it had happened--" He
paused.
"You'd have made a point of coming to the wedding?" suggested Saltash.
Jake passed the suggestion by. "I'd have known how to deal with it,
anyway. Now, it seems, it's too late."
Saltash took up the envelope from the table, and returned it to his
pocket. "I believe you'd have been better pleased if I hadn't married
her," he observed.
Jake shook his head. "I'd be better pleased--maybe--if I knew for certain
what you did it for.
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