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“Turn round, Mary Will.” I swung her about and pointed off into the fog. “Over there—don’t you see———”
“See what?” she gasped.
“How I love you,” I said in her ear, triumphing over the foghorn and the curiosity of the woman just beyond her. “With all my heart and soul, my dear. I’m an engineer—I say engineer—not up on sentimental stuff—can’t talk it—just feel it. Give me a chance to prove how much I care. Don’t you think that in time———”
She shook her head.
“What is it? Are you still fond of that other boy—the poor fellow in Shanghai?”
“No,” she answered seriously. “It isn’t that. I’ve just sort of buried him—away off in a corner of my heart. And I’m not sure that I ever did care as much as I should. On the boat coming out—I had doubts of myself—but———”
“But what?”
