ace of petty vanity behind it. Everything about her was
large and generous and incorruptibly wholesome, even her undoubted high
temper. And this was her charm to every man who knew her--not less than
her lovely face.
Guthrie Carey--and who shall blame him?--basked in his good luck. But
every now and then he looked up and met the glower of Claud Dalzell
with a steely eye. These two men, each so fine of his kind, met with
the sentiments of rival stags in the mating season; the impulse to
fight 'on sight' and assure the non-survival of the unfittest came just
as naturally to them as to the less civilised animals. Each recognised
in the other not merely a personal rival, but an opposing type.
It amused Deborah, who grasped the situation as surely as they did, to
note the bristling antipathy behind the careful politeness of their
mutual regard. If it did not bristle under her immediate eye, it
crawled.
"Look out for the articles of virtue," Claud had warned her earlier in
the evening. "That big sailor of yours is rather like a bull in a china
shop; he nearly had the carved table over just now. He doesn't know
just how to judge distance in relation to his bulk. I'd like to know
his fighting weight. When he plants his hoof you can feel the floor
shake."
"He IS a fine figure of a man," Deb commented, with a smile.
"I can't," yawned Mr Dalzell casually, "stand a person who eats curry
with a knife and fork."
"It was pretty tough, that curry. I expect he couldn't get it to pieces
with a spoon."
"He did not try to."
"I never noticed. I shouldn't remember to notice a little trifle like
that."
"My dear girl, it is the little trifle that marks the man."
"Oh!" said Deb. And then she sought Guthrie Carey, and brought him to
sit beside her.
"That gentleman sings well," remarked Guthrie tepidly, at the
conclusion of a finely rendered song. "I often wish I could do those
ornamental things. Unfortunately, a man who has his work--if he sticks
to it properly--gets no time to qualify. I'm afraid I shall never shine
at drawing-room tricks."
"Tell me about your work," said clever Deb, smiling behind her waving
fan.
At once she had him quite happy, talking about himself. No effort was
necessary to draw him out; that she deigned to listen to him was
enough. His struggles as boy--blue-nose boy; his tough battle for the
first certificate; his complicated trials as second mate, holding
theoretically an authority that w
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