She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. “When are you going away?” He asked. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. It was horrible, but she must do it. The dining saloon was done in mahogany and sandalwood, with eight cabins, four to port and four to starboard. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye.
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