You can see twenty or thirty of them any
morning, lounging about the quay, strapping young fellows who
shelter themselves behind the plea of privileged employment. We are
notorious down here for our skulkers, and you--you who should be
the one man to set them an example, are as bad as they are. You
deliberately encourage them."
Sir Henry abandoned his position by his wife's side, His face
darkened and his eyes flashed.
"Skulkers?" he repeated furiously.
Philippa looked at him without flinching.
"Yes! Don't you like the word?"
The angry flush faded from his cheeks as quickly as it had come. He
laughed a little unnaturally, took up a cigarette from an open box,
and lit it.
"It isn't a pleasant one, is it, Philippa?" he observed, thrusting
his hands into his jacket pockets strolling away. "If one doesn't
feel the call--well, there you are, you see. Jove, that's a fine
fish."
He stood admiring the codling upon the scales. Philippa continued
her work.
"If you intend to spend the rest of the evening with us," she told
him calmly, "please let me remind you again that we have guests for
dinner. Your present attire may be comfortable but it is scarcely
becoming."
He turned away and came back towards her. As he passed the lamp,
she started.
"Why, you're wet," she exclaimed, "wet through!"
"Of course I am," he admitted, feeling his sleeve, "but to tell you
the truth, in the interest of our conversation I had quite forgotten
it.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112