You're a
hunger to me. I'll admit it. But you're more. You're a saviour. And--you
don't know anything about it, dearie. But when we're married you will,
and I suppose I'll be just the same sort of hunger to you, then. It's no
use blinking your eyes to it. And--be damned glad I love you, and am not
like some sort of men. Otherwise--well, Lord knows what would have
happened to you. You're so honest that you think everyone else is. And
yet, transparent little fool that you are, in common-sense things, I
know that you're going to keep me straight."
Back came trooping all the visions of Deliverance, a rich pageantry
shutting away the footmarks of the beast she had just glimpsed.
As every beat of the engines brought them nearer and nearer to Sydney
consideration of ways and means became even more anxious. Louis spent
glowering days. Marcella was quite certain that everything would turn
out well.
It was in the dull run between Colombo and Fremantle that they decided
upon a plan of action. The nights were getting colder now; they had to
sit in thick coats in the evenings. This particular evening it was
raining greyly, but they could not sit in the saloon because Ole Fred
and his gang had started a smoking concert, and Marcella and Louis would
have been ejected forcibly.
"You're such a fatuous optimist, Marcella," he said impatiently.
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