Arms and the Woman

Page 18

"You must write to me occasionally, Jack," said Phyllis, "if only once

a month. I shall always be interested in your career."

The smile faltered as she put out her gloved hand.

"You will make some man happy, Phyllis," I said.

"Good-bye."

And then--and then they sped away, and I followed them with dimming

gaze till I could see them no more. I trudged home. . . .

I stood on the upper deck. The spires and domes of the city faded on

my sight till all merged into a gray smoky patch on the horizon. With

a dead cigar clenched between my teeth I watched and watched with a

callous air, as though there had been no wrench, as though I had not

left behind all I loved in the world. And yet I gazed, the keen salt

air singing past my ears, till there was nothing but the sea as far as

the eye could scan.

Thus I began the quest of the elusive, which is a little of love, a

little of adventure, and a little of all things.