Page:MacGrath--The luck of the Irish.djvu/174

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THE LUCK OF THE IRISH

to your room and stay there until lunch. Then we'll take the steamer over to the Lido."

"You're a good man, William Grogan."

"Aw! You trust me, sister, don't you?"

She caught his hand between her two small ones and pressed tightly. "Absolutely, as I have never trusted any man but my father."

"Well, when I gave you my hand that day on the Ajax, that was all there was to it."

She let go his hand and ran blindly for the stairs.

William stared at the vacant doorway for a moment, shrugged, and walked down to the end of the Calle, or little street, where the bright ferrules of the gondolas bobbed a howdy-do to him. Several gondoliers raised their black felt hats expectantly, but he shook his head and perched himself upon the rail and glowered across the water at the yacht Elsa.

"Scum!" William growled as he saw a gondola draw alongside the ladder. "But wait; I'm going to get you some day just where I want you, and what the monkey did to the parrot. …"

He gazed on, wishing that he had some secret kind of torpedo, guided solely by the will, to launch at that yacht. Money; he thought he could do these things because he had money! A series of expletives rumbled over William's lips, for when he felt strongly he swore strongly. What would you? He was in many essentials a primitive man; nevertheless, he had a fine code of honor and, what is more, plenty of moral fiber to

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