"Yes."

"In America was it?"

"On the boat."

Sir Mallaby chuckled heartily.

"My dear boy, you don't mean to tell me that you're taking a shipboard flirtation seriously. Why, you're expected to fall in love with a different girl every time you go on a voyage. You'll get over this in a week. You'd have got over it now if you hadn't gone and buried yourself in a depressing place like Bingley-on-the-Sea."

The whistle of the speaking-tube blew. Sir Mallaby put the instrument to his ear.

"All right," he turned to Sam. "I shall have to send you away now, Sam. Man waiting to see me. Good-bye."

Miss Milliken intercepted Sam as he made for the door.

"Oh, Mr. Sam!"

"Yes?"

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"Excuse me, but will you be seeing Sir Mallaby again to-day? If so, would you--I don't like to disturb him now, when he is busy--would you mind telling him that I inadvertently omitted a stanza. It runs," said Miss Milliken, closing her eyes, "'Trust no future, howe'er pleasant. Let the dead past bury its dead! Act, act in the living Present, Heart within and God o'erhead!' Thank you so much. Good afternoon."




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