But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. “Nothing can cheer me,” he said, “except champagne. What were your findings?” Lucy asked. And yet, mulling it over, he began to understand why the white man was so powerful in the world: he was taught loyalty and fair play in his schools, and he carried this spirit the world which his forebears had conquered. “To tell you the truth, it has seemed just lately as though we were becoming in some measure estranged. He was not a sailor. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. You deal with her. ‘Which presupposes that she needs to hide at all. He would have to probe further.
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