playwright still retained a troubled thought of Tinker. She left them then, and as she went swiftly down the bright deck toward the sunset she did not seem to go to dress for the evening, though that was how she had explained her departure. She seemed to be flying home appropriately to the great, round blaze of the sun into which her tall figure appeared to vanish, as the three, with blurring eyes, stared after her.
This was Macklyn's expression of her manner of leaving them; and Albert Jones agreed. "Yes," he murmured, wiping his glasses. "A woman with wings! A woman with wings!" Ogle said nothing; for the voices of the sea and the pulsation of the ship's vitals were mocking him, and through and through his head, from ear to ear, they seemed to beat a hoarse, intolerable chanting:
Mariar!
Bay rum in a bottle we'll buy 'er!
Mariar!
Mariar
He turned from his enthusiastic friends and walked away without any of the usual explanatory mutterings.
