Laudersdale's age?"
"How did you know Mr. Laudersdale Was my father?"
"By an arithmetical process. That is his age?"
"Yes; and yours?"
"Not exactly. I was thirty-seven last August."
"And will be thirty-eight next?"
"That is the logical deduction."
"I shall give you a birthday-gift when you are just twice my age."
"By what courier will you make it reach me?"
"Oh, I forgot. But--Mr. Raleigh?" "What is it?" he replied, turning to
look at her,--for his eyes had been wandering over the deck.
"I thought you would ask me to write to you."
"No, that would not be worth while."
His face was too grave for her to feel indignation.
"Why?" she demanded.
"It would give me great pleasure, without doubt. But in a week you will
have too many other cares and duties to care for such a burden."
"That shows that you do not know me at all. _Vous en avez use mal avec
moi!_"
Though Mr. Raleigh still looked at her, he did not reply. She rose and
walked away a few steps, coming back.
"You are always in the right, and I consequently in the wrong," she
said. "How often to-night have I asked pardon? I will not put up
with it!"
"We shall part in a few hours," he replied; "when you lose your temper,
I lose my time.
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