e deserted promenade.

Vandover saw her without moving, only closing his teeth tighter on his
pipe. It was evident that Grace expected him to speak to her and had
given him a chance for an admirable little tete-a-tete. For a moment
Vandover's heart knocked at his throat; he drew his breath once or twice
sharply through his nose. In an instant all the old evil instincts were
back again, urging and clamouring never so strong, never so insistent.
But Vandover set his face against them, honestly, recalling his
resolution, telling himself that he was done with that life. As he had
said, the lesson had been too terrible.

He turned about resolutely, and walked slowly away from her. The girl
looked after him a moment, surprised, and then called out:

"Oh, Mr. Vandover!"

Vandover paused a moment, looking back.

"Where are you going?" she went on. "Didn't you see me here? Don't you
want to come and talk to me?"

"No," answered Vandover, smiling good-humouredly, trying to be as polite
as was possible. "No, I don't." Then he took a sudden resolution, and
added gravely, "I don't want to have anything to do with you."

In his stateroom, as he sat on the edge of his berth winding his watch
before going to bed, he thought over what he had said. "That was a mean
way to talk to a girl," he told himself, "but," he added, "it's the only
thing to do. I simply couldn't start in again after all that's happened.
Oh, yes, that was the right thing to do!"

He felt a glow of self-respect for his firmness and his decision, a
pride in the unexpected strength, the fine moral rigour that he had
developed at the critical moment. He _could_ turn sharp around when he
wanted to, after all. Ah, yes, that was the only thing to do if one was
to begin all over again and live down what had happened. He wished that
the governor might know how well he had acted.

Chapter Nine

Vandover stayed for two weeks at Coronado Beach and managed to pass the
time very pleasantly. He was fortunate enough to find a party at the
hotel whom he knew very well. In the morning they bathed or sailed on
the bay, and in the afternoon rode out with a pack of greyhounds and
coursed jack-rabbits on the lower end of the island. Vandover's good
spirits began to come back to him, his appetite returned, his nerves
steadied themselves, he slept eight hours every night. But for all that
he did not think that things were the same with him. He said to himself
that he was