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"I always knew she really liked him," the other man went on complacently. "If he'd had Mortlake's money " He shrugged his shoulders significantly. Sangster waited to hear no more; he went straight to Jimmy's hotel. It was late then nearly eleven. The hall porter said in reply to his inquiry that Mr. and Mrs.
She had hardly touched the champagne with which Jimmy had insisted on filling her glass; there were two empty bottles on the table, and she wondered mechanically who had drunk it all. Sangster bade her "good-bye" as they left the restaurant; he held her hand for a moment, and looked into her eyes. "I hope you will be very happy; I am sure you will."
He was utterly wretched as he walked home. He had tied himself for life; there would be no slipping out of this engagement. Poor little Christine! she deserved a better man. He felt acutely conscious of his own unworthiness. He walked the whole way home. He was dog tired when he let himself into his rooms. Sangster rose from a chair by the fire.
William Dean Howells, General Grant, General Sherman, Phillips Brooks, General Sheridan, Canon Farrar, Cardinal Gibbons, Marion Harland, Margaret Sangster the most prominent men and women of the day, some of whom had never written for magazines began to appear in the young editor's contents. Each contributor had come gratuitously to the aid of the editor.
The gill-netters hung on the seiner's heels, because where the purse seine could get a haul so could they. And the carriers and buyers sought the fishermen wherever they went, to buy and carry away their catch. Folly Bay suffered bad luck from the beginning. Gower had four purse-seine boats in commission. Within a week one broke a crankshaft in half a gale off Sangster Island.
"Oh, Jimmy what will mother say?" she whiskered. "And and Mr. Sangster?" Jimmy laughed outright then. She was such a child. Why on earth should it matter what Sangster said? Christine did not know why she had spoken of him at all; but his kind face had seemed to float into her mind with the touch of Jimmy's lips. She was glad she had liked him.
Sangster did not make the obvious reply; he came back, shutting the door behind him. Jimmy was leaning back in his chair now; his face was nearly as red as the dressing-gown he wore, but he shivered violently from time to time. There was a little silence, then he opened his eyes and smiled rather apologetically. "Sorry to be so dull. I haven't slept for a week."
Costin tiptoed across the room and closed the door which led to Jimmy's bedroom. "He's never been the same, sir, since Miss Farrow died asking your pardon," he added hurriedly. Sangster threw his cigarette end firewards. "It's a rotten business," he said heavily. In his own heart he agreed with Costin; he believed that it was Cynthia's death that was breaking Jimmy's heart.
There was another pause. "One o'clock, then." Jimmy rang off. Sangster felt easier as he sat down to his breakfast. Jimmy's voice had sounded fairly normal, if a little constrained; and it was not such a very long time till one o'clock, when he would hear all there was to hear. He forced himself to work all the morning.
"Then please come." There was a moment's silence. "Very well," said Christine. Her voice was quite apathetic. He knew that she was absolutely indifferent as to where she went or what she did. She looked so broken just as if someone had wiped the sunshine out of her life with a ruthless hand. She went away to dress, and Sangster stood at the window, frowning into the street.
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