And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. I wish nothing at all from them. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. He was not a sailor. It would have been a crisis anyhow, but it was complicated in Ann Veronica’s mind by the fact that a letter lay on the breakfast-table from Mr. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded.
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