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Updated: June 7, 2025
To demand both conditions would probably appeal to Cleigh as not humanly possible. One or the other, but not the two together. An interval of several minutes of which she had no clear recollection, and then she was conscious that she was reclining in her chair on deck, staring at the stars which appeared jerkily and queerly shaped through tears. She hadn't had the courage to make a decision.
Cleigh literally snatched it from the astonished butler's grasp, pried and tore off a board. He dug away at the excelsior until he felt the cool glass under his fingers. He peered through this glass. "Denny, it's the rug!" Cleigh's voice cracked and broke into a queer treble note. Jane shook her head.
Were those treasures honourably yours? Fie! No, I won't demand that you let him go; I'll only ask it. Because you will not deny to me what you gave to those little children generosity." Cleigh did not speak. "I want to love you," she continued, "but I couldn't if there was no mercy in your sense of justice.
Cleigh heard a call or two, then the creaking of the ladder. Two minutes later a man limped into the salon. He tossed his sou'wester to the floor and followed it with the smelly oilskin. "Hello, Cleigh! Devil of a night!" "Have a peg?" asked Cleigh. "Never touch the stuff." "That's so; I had forgotten."
Behind that calm, impenetrable mask, however, was turmoil, kaleidoscopic, whirling too quickly for the brain to grasp or hold definite shapes. The boy here! And the girl with those beads round her throat! For the subsidence of this turmoil it was needful to have space; so Cleigh strode out of the lobby into the fading day, made his way across the bridge, and sought the Bund.
All of them at this moment appeared to be enjoying some huge joke. "I can only repeat," said Cleigh, "that you are all playing with dynamite." "Perhaps. Most of these boys fought in the war; they played the game; but when they returned nobody had any use for them. I caught them on the rebound, when they were a bit desperate. We formed a company but of that more anon.
But if you can bring about the reconciliation of the Cleighs the old boy will not be so keen for chasing me all over the map when this job is done." "Will you tell me what those beads are?" "To be sure I will all in due time. What does Cleigh call them?" "Love beads!" scornfully. "On my solemn word, that's exactly what they are." "Very well.
"Good-night," replied Cleigh over the top of the book. "Be sure of your door. If you hear any untoward sounds in the night call to the captain whose cabin adjoins yours." When she and Dennison arrived at the door of her cabin she turned impulsively and gave him both her hands. He held them lightly, because his emotions were at full tide, and he did not care to have her sense it in any pressure.
"A yacht? It's a madhouse," gibed Cunningham. "And this is a convention of fools!" "How do you want me to act?" asked Cleigh, surrendering absolutely. "When he comes to, take his hand. You don't have to say anything else." "All right." From Dennison's lips came a deep, long sigh. Jane leaned over. "Denny?" she whispered. The lids of Dennison's eyes rolled back heavily.
To begin with, there was that picturesque stone image at the head of the table Cleigh who appeared utterly oblivious of his surroundings, who ate with apparent relish, and who ignored both men, his son and his captor. Once or twice Jane caught his glance a blue eye, sharp-pupiled, agate-hard. But what was it she saw a twinkle or a sparkle? The breadth of his shoulders!
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