Meanwhile the manager caught and interpreted correctly an imploring
look from the Lieutenant.

"Before you go, Miss Amhurst, will you permit me to introduce to you
my friend, Lieutenant Drummond, of H.M.S. 'Consternation.'"

This ritual to convention being performed, the expression on the
girl's face showed the renewal of her anxiety to be gone, and as she
turned to the door, the officer sprang forward and opened it for her.
If the manager expected the young man to return, he was disappointed,
for Drummond threw over his shoulder the hasty remark:

"I will see you at the Club this evening," whereupon the genial
Morton, finding himself deserted, sat down in his swivel chair and
laughed quietly to himself.

There was the slightest possible shade of annoyance on the girl's face
as the sailor walked beside her from the door of the manager's room,
through the public portion of the bank to the exit, and the young man
noticing this, became momentarily tongue-tied, but nevertheless
persisted, with a certain awkward doggedness which was not going to
allow so slight a hint that his further attendance was unnecessary, to
baffle him. He did not speak until they had passed down the stone
steps to the pavement, and then his utterance began with a
half-embarrassed stammer, as if the shadow of displeasure demanded
justification on his part.

"You-- you see, Miss Amhurst, we have been properly introduced."

For the first time he heard the girl laugh, just a little, and the