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"And there's the theatre right over there!" sighed Joyce. "It would be against our word as midshipmen and gentlemen to visit it," Dave urged. "Come on, Joyce; we'll turn into one of the very quiet side streets and stroll along. Then we'll be out of temptation." Accordingly they went to one of the all but deserted side streets of the better sort.
Apart altogether from the knowledge that I was going to spend a whole delightful day with Tommy and Joyce, the mere idea of getting on the water again was enough in itself to put me into the best of spirits.
About noon comes to me my cousin Sarah, and my aunt Livett, newly come out of Gloucestershire, good woman, and come to see me; I took them home, and made them drink, but they would not stay dinner, I being alone. But here they tell me that they hear that this day Kate Joyce was to be married to a man called Hollingshed, whom she indeed did once tell me of, and desired me to enquire after him.
Among their friends on the campus there were a good many whispered remarks about the insanity of Joyce and Cameron in planning such a fantastic excursion, but Joyce was certain there was as much envy as criticism in the eyes of her associates.
There was no low curiosity of a thieving kind in his feverish longing to test the truth of that old story of Maggie's. Money had no lure for him, candy he was surfeited with, but he'd chance much to get a glimpse of the box tied with the blood-stained cord, and the knife with the queer spots. Joyce had apparently gone on an errand.
"Besides," added Tommy, "it would be the deuce of a day, and it's a long time since any of us had a good day, eh, Joyce?" "Three years," said Joyce quietly. That decided me. "Right you are," I said. "You're you're something like pals, you two." We clinched the arrangement with a grip, and then Joyce, jumping up from the table, crossed the room to a small writing-desk.
All that belonged to the old Joyce seemed to have fallen, with the discarded garments, to the floor. She did not doubt her power now. She was not afraid. Something was going to happen again she experienced the sensation. It had come first in this very shack, when her childhood had departed, and the woman in her had been born. A poor, dull woman, to be sure; still, a woman.
"Oh! exactly," she answered and rolling the baby in a blanket she strode over to the bed, and placed him hastily beside Joyce. "There," she said soothingly; "now lay still or you'll hurt the little beauty. I'm going to fix something comforting to drink." She was gone. In the mystery of the still room and the early morning, Joyce was alone with her little son!
Joyce remained in charge at Hut Point, with instructions to get dog food from Cape Evans and make a start south as soon as possible. He sent Stevens, Hayward, and Cope to Cape Evans the next day, and busied himself with the repair of sledging- gear. Cope, Hayward, and Gaze arrived back from Cape Evans on November 1, Stevens having stayed at the base.
All that showed of William P. Joyce, bachelor of some arts and plenty of science, late of Dawson, was the white of his eyes. And talkin' of white say, I looked like I had washing hung out. Seemed like the draught had riz my hair up, too. "'Nothing like it ever seen, continues Struthers. 'I'll call it 'The Winning Card, or 'At Bay, or something like that.
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