"It means a great deal to me," he said. "It means everything to
me. I don't know what I'd do if I missed the Touraine!"
Of course he did not miss the Touraine. He was on the wharf hours
before her coming. He exasperated everyone with his questions. He
was turned out of all kinds of barriers; he earned the distrust of
the detectives; he became a marked man. He was certainly there for
no good, that tall guy in the slouch hat, his lean hands fidgeting
for a surreptitious pearl-necklace or an innocent-looking
umbrella full of diamonds--one who, in their language, was a guy
that would bear watching.
The steamer came alongside, and Raymond gazed up at the tier upon
tier of faces. At length, with a catch in his heart, he caught
sight of Miss Latimer, who smiled and waved her hand to him. He
scanned her narrowly for an answer to his doubts; and these
increased the more he gazed at her. It seemed a bad sign to see
her so calm, so composed; worse still to see her occasionally in
animated conversation with some of her fellow-passengers. He
thought her smiles had even a perfunctory friendliness, and he had
to share them besides with others. It was plain she had never
received his letter. No woman could bear herself like that who had
received such a letter. Then too she appeared so handsome, so
high-bred, so charming and noticeable a figure in the little
company about her that Raymond felt a peremptory sense of his own
humbleness and of the impassable void between them.
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