She was disappointed by
his quietness. "I did not say more than I was absolutely obliged to
say--of myself." She was beginning to be irritated with this man a
little. "I told him I had been very lucky," she said suddenly
despondent, missing Anthony's masterful manner, that something arbitrary
and tender which, after the first scare, she had accustomed herself to
look forward to with pleasurable apprehension. He was contemplating her
rather blankly. She had not taken off her outdoor things, hat, gloves.
She was like a caller. And she had a movement suggesting the end of a
not very satisfactory business call. "Perhaps it would be just as well
if we went ashore. Time yet."
He gave her a glimpse of his unconstrained self in the low vehement "You
dare!" which sprang to his lips and out of them with a most menacing
inflexion.
"You dare . . . What's the matter now?"
These last words were shot out not at her but at some target behind her
back. Looking over her shoulder she saw the bald head with black bunches
of hair of the congested and devoted Franklin (he had his cap in his
hand) gazing sentimentally from the saloon doorway with his lobster eyes.
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