stateroom berth, holding out to him a
thin, bare arm in voiceless adieu?

And Neeland lay there thinking, his head on his elbow, the other arm
extended--from the fingers of which the burnt-out cigarette presently
fell to the floor.

He thought to himself:

"She is absolutely beautiful; there's no denying that. It's not her
clothes or the way she does her hair, or her voice, or the way she
moves, or how she looks at a man; it's the whole business. And the
whole bally business is a miracle, that's all. Good Lord! And to think
I ever had the nerve--the _nerve_!"

He swung himself to a sitting posture, sat gazing into space for a few
moments, then continued to undress by pulling off one shoe, lighting a
cigarette, and regarding his other foot fixedly.

That is the manner in which the vast majority of young men do their
deepest thinking.

However, before five o'clock he had scrubbed himself and arrayed his
well constructed person in fresh linen and outer clothing; and now he
sauntered out through the hallway and down the stairs to the rear
drawing-room, where a tea-table had been brought in and tea
paraphernalia arranged. Although the lamp under the kettle had been
lighted, nobody was in the room except a West Highland terrier curled
up on a lounge, who, without lifting his snow-white head, regarded
Neeland out of the wisest and most penetrating eyes the young man had
ever encountered.

Here was a personality! Here was a dog not to be approached lightly or
with flippant familiarity. No! That small, long, short-legged body
with its thatch of wiry white hair was fairly instinct with dignity,
wisdom, and uncompromising self-respect.

"That dog," thought Neeland, venturing to seat himself on a chair
opposite, "is a Presbyterian if ever there was one. And I, for one,
haven't the courage to address him until he deigns to speak to me."

He looked respectfully at the dog, glanced at the kettle which had
begun to sizzle a little, then looked out of the long windows into the
little walled garden where a few slender fruit trees grew along the
walls in the rear of well-kept flower beds, now gay with phlox,
larkspur, poppies, and heliotrope, and edged with the biggest and
bluest pansies he had ever beheld.

On the wall a Peacock butterfly spread its brown velvet and gorgeously
eyed wings to the sun's warmth; a blackbird with brilliant yellow bill
stood astride a peach twig and poured out a bubbling and incessant
melody full