"You are looking for Beatrice," said Elizabeth, answering his thought
and not his words. "She has gone out walking, but I think she will be
back soon. Excuse me, but I must go and see about your room."
Geoffrey hung about a little, then he lit his pipe and strolled down to
the beach, with a vague unexpressed idea of meeting Beatrice. He did not
meet Beatrice, but he met old Edward, who knew him at once.
"Lord, sir," he said, "it's queer to see you here again, specially when
I thinks as how I saw you first, and you a dead 'un to all purposes,
with your mouth open, and Miss Beatrice a-hanging on to your hair fit
to pull your scalp off. You never was nearer old Davy than you was
that night, sir, nor won't be. And now you've been spared to become a
Parliament man, I hears, and much good may you do there--it will take
all your time, sir--and I think, sir, that I should like to drink your
health."
Geoffrey put his hand in his pocket and gave the old man a sovereign. He
could afford to do so now.
"Does Miss Beatrice go out canoeing now?" he asked while Edward mumbled
his astonished thanks.
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