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Updated: June 17, 2025
At his action Toby gasped, and sudden understanding awoke in his eyes. He dragged one arm free, and made as if he would cling to Saltash. "Keep me with you, sir!" he cried out wildly. "Don't make me go alone!" Saltash gripped the clutching hand, dropping the end of rope. It trailed down, and Larpent caught it, flung it round Saltash's body, and knotted it while he was lifting Toby over the rail.
She was lying upon tiger-skins in Saltash's conical chamber, and he, the king of all her dreams, was kneeling by her side. That was the first thing that occurred to her that he should kneel. "Oh, don't! Oh, don't!" she said quickly. "I am not not Maud." He regarded her humorously, but the old derisive lines were wholly gone from his dark face.
Certainly no one ever questioned it. One of his horses was running at Graydown that afternoon, and at the end of the morning he returned to the house for a hasty lunch before leaving for the race-course. All memory of Saltash's protégé had left him, but it returned to his mind as he saw the extra place laid at the table.
Impulsively, with an inarticulate word of apology, he thrust out his hand. Saltash's came to meet it in a swift, hard grip. "Enough?" he asked, with that odd, smiling grimace of his that revealed so little. And, "Yes, enough!" Bunny said, looking him straight in the face. They parted almost without words a few minutes later. There was no more to be said. Saltash dined alone that night.
"You're not wanting to offer her a safe harbour when her present anchorage fails her?" jested Saltash. Jake turned at the door as one goaded. "When that happens," he said very deliberately. "I guess she'll be past any help from me, poor kid!" Saltash's black brows descended. He scowled hideously for a moment. Then, "I congratulate you again," he said coolly.
I know, sir," whispered Toby apologetically. Saltash's arm surrounded him with a comforting closeness. "You miserable little shrimp!" he said. "How's the head?" "Better, sir. Thank you, sir," muttered Toby. "Why not tell the truth for once and say it hurts like hell?" suggested Saltash. Toby was silent. "Do you know what I'm going to do with you?" said Saltash. "No, sir." Toby stirred uneasily.
"Charlie, do you know that night after night she cries as if her poor little heart were broken?" Saltash's eyebrow descended again. He scowled hideously. "Mais pourquoi? I have not broken it. I have never even made love to her." Maud's face was very compassionate. "Perhaps that is why. She is so young so forlorn and so miserable. Is it quite impossible for you to forgive her?"
"If only some decent woman would fall in love with him!" she sighed, and then found herself smiling wistfully at the thought that Saltash's heart would not be an easy thing to capture. He was far too accustomed to adulation, wherever he went. "Besides, he's such a flirt," she reflected. "One never knows whether he is in earnest till the mischief is done."
"And you think I am incapable of that?" "I haven't said so," Jake said sombrely. "But it's up to me to prove it?" There was a certain insistence in Saltash's tone, albeit a mocking spirit looked out of his eyes. Jake faced it unwaveringly for several seconds. Then: "Yes. I reckon it is up to you," he said, and turned deliberately away. "I'm going now." "All right." Saltash's hand fell.
She lay in the sombre old library, that had been turned into the most luxurious bedroom that Saltash's and Juliet's ingenuity could devise, listening to the tinkle of the water in the conservatory and watching Juliet who sat in a low chair by her side with a book in her lap ready to read her to sleep.
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