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Even the
youngest would wander away for miles if not restrained. Mrs. Fyne had a
ruddy out-of-doors complexion and wore blouses with a starched front like
a man's shirt, a stand-up collar and a long necktie. Marlow had made
their acquaintance one summer in the country, where they were accustomed
to take a cottage for the holidays . . .
At this point we were interrupted by Mr. Powell who declared that he must
leave us. The tide was on the turn, he announced coming away from the
window abruptly. He wanted to be on board his cutter before she swung
and of course he would sleep on board. Never slept away from the cutter
while on a cruise. He was gone in a moment, unceremoniously, but giving
us no offence and leaving behind an impression as though we had known him
for a long time. The ingenuous way he had told us of his start in life
had something to do with putting him on that footing with us. I gave no
thought to seeing him again.
Marlow expressed a confident hope of coming across him before long.
"He cruises about the mouth of the river all the summer.


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