’ ‘That depends, that does,’ said Trodger guardedly. The mere fact that he was there in the train alongside her, helping her, sitting opposite to her in the dining-car, presently sleeping on a seat within a yard of her, made her heart sing until she was afraid their fellow passengers would hear it. He brought home her first “meal”, a man who he 77 claimed was a highwayman who had raped several women and was destined for the hangman’s noose. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. I will go to-night.
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