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"You'll live here, that's what you'll do though I suppose you are dreaming and scheming to have all sorts of secret caves and queer places to yourself horrid, grimy, smoky bachelor quarters where you can behave sans-façon." "I've had enough of sans-façon" he said grimly. "After shacks and bungalows and gun-boats and troopships, do you suppose this doesn't look rather heavenly?"
His men were almost all half-dead with the sun-blaze. His glance chanced to light in the distance on a soldier to whom he bore no love causelessly, but bitterly all the same. He had him summoned, and eyed him with a curious amusement Chateauroy treated his squadrons with much the same sans-facon familiarity and brutality that a chief of filibusters uses in his.
How far away they were. . . . Gerald was with them. . . . Curious that Selwyn had not seen her waiting for him, knee-deep in the surf curious that he had seen Gladys instead. . . . True, Gladys had called to him and signalled him, white arm upflung. . . . Gladys was very pretty with her heavy, dark hair and melting, Spanish eyes, and her softly rounded, olive-skinned figure. . . . Gladys had called to him, and she had not. . . . That was true; and lately for the last few days or perhaps more she herself had been a trifle less impulsive in her greeting of Selwyn a little less sans-façon with him. . . . After all, a man comes when it pleases him.
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