Could anybody
blame her because she helped her fiance? On the contrary, it reflected
credit on her.... But she might not even know that the yacht had been put
on the market. Perhaps she had forgotten both yacht and documents and did
not care what became of them. At any rate, she had not wanted to sell the
yacht simply to raise money on her own account--never; he knew her too
well. She had done it for somebody else's sake; that was she. And that was
the important point.
He remembered her so distinctly: her fair curls, her nose, her dimple; she
would be nineteen on the seventh of December. Never mind the yacht; that
didn't matter. He might have wished to save the cushions, but it would
probably be too late for that.
He returned to his office, but could only concentrate his attention on
what was absolutely necessary. He paused frequently and gazed straight
ahead, lost in reflection. What if he should buy back the yacht? Would she
mind, perhaps? God knows; she might think it was done spitefully, with
malice aforethought. It might be better to remain neutral. Yes, that would
be best; what was the use of making a fool of himself?--Miss Lynum and he
were through with each other for ever.
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