But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. ‘That is, if she’s gone that way. " "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. I said, that day at Surbiton, ‘There’s many good things in life, but there’s only one best, and that’s the wild-haired girl who’s pulling away at that oar. That was what she was trying to make him understand. I was compelled to run away.
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