By
now he had come to the fiery liqueur called mescal. He was nearly
through his supper. At every moment he consulted his watch and
fixed the outside door with a scowl. It was already twenty
minutes after seven.
"I know the red-headed man spoiled it, after all," murmured Blix.
"K. D. B. saw the two of them in here and was frightened."
"We could send Captain Jack a telegram from her," suggested Condy.
"I'm ready for anything now."
"What could you say?"
"Oh, that she couldn't come. Make another appointment."
"He'd be offended with her. He'd never make another appointment.
Sea captains are always so punctilious, y' know."
Richard brought them their coffee and kirsch, and Condy showed
Blix how to burn a lump of sugar and sweeten the coffee with
syrup. But they were disappointed. Captain Jack was getting
ready to leave. K. D. B. had evidently broken the appointment.
Then all at once she appeared.
They knew it upon the instant by a brisk opening and shutting of
the street door, and by a sudden alertness on the part of Captain
Jack, which he immediately followed by a quite inexplicable move.
The street door in the outside room had hardly closed before his
hand shot to his coat lapel and tore out the two marguerites.
The action was instinctive; Blix knew it for such immediately.
The retired captain had not premeditated it. He had not seen the
face of the newcomer. She had not time to come into the back
room, or even to close the street door.
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