"
He sat down before his desk, took some papers from the top drawer,
rummaged about for a moment or two in another, and found what seemed
to be a couple of charts in oilskin cases. All the time the wind
was shaking the windows, and a storm of rain was beating against the
panes.
"Help yourself to whisky and soda, Jimmy," Sir Henry invited, as he
buttoned up his coat. "You'll need it all presently."
"I thank you kindly, sir," Jimmy replied. "I am thinking that we'll
both need a drink before we're through this night."
He helped himself to a whisky and soda on the generous principle of
half and half. Philippa, who was watching her husband's preparations
indignantly, once more found words.
"Henry, you are incorrigible!" she exclaimed. "Listen to me if you
please. I insist upon it."
Sir Henry turned a little impatiently towards her. "Philippa, I
really can't stop now," he protested. "But you must! You shall!"
she cried. "You shall hear this much from me, at any rate, before
you go. What I said the other day I repeat a thousandfold now."
Sir Henry glanced at Dumble and motioned his head towards the door.
The fisherman made an awkward exit.
"A thousandfold," Philippa repeated passionately. "You hear, Henry?
I do not consider myself any more your wife. If I am here when you
return, it will be simply because I find it convenient.
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