"You're a real good pal," was her rejoinder. "I thought I knew a real man when I saw him."
"A very pretty eye for a blackguard," I thought to myself. "You're a clever woman."
I got my cheque in an envelope half an hour later, with a polite little note thanking me for my kindness to her husband and herself. And three hours after I received it Currie came to my cabin and waked me out of a sleep on my settee.
"I think Toillet's finished," he said somewhat excitedly. "Poor-r devil—he's done for-r himself. Will you come and see him?"
I went, and, sure enough, Toillet was at his last gasp; the cold sweat of death was upon his face, which had become blue and pinched.
"It's all over, Currie," I whispered. "Keep quiet." And I pointed to the figure of the almost-widow as she sat half huddled up on a chair, apparently crying bitterly. She was a magnificent actress, Brown. I defy any man to say she wasn't overcome with grief at that moment.
"The sickness stopped about two hours ago," Currie told me. "But his heart was so shaky that he couldn't rally. D'ye know he
