What's that? Oh, pretty rough. Yes.
It's a bad sea most all the time. Why, that's good of you, Mr.
Peterman." His smile broadened. "Yes. You sent an excellent ambassador.
A charming girl. Well, there's no time like the present. Yes. I've
lunched. I'm just through with my mail. Four o'clock would suit me
admirably. Why sure I'd like to. All right. G'bye."

He stood for a moment after replacing the receiver. Then, becoming aware
of another wanting to use the instrument, he moved away.

Returning to the smoking lounge he finished off his correspondence and
took possession of one of the couches and lit a cigar.

For a time the hang-over of business pre-occupied him. But it was not
for long. His whole thought swiftly became absorbed in Nancy McDonald,
with her wonderful halo of vivid hair. It had been the same during the
whole of his journey down from Sachigo, in fact, from the moment he had
first set eyes on her when she entered his office on that memorable day
of her visit. She pre-occupied all his leisure.

He had thought deeply on the meaning of her visit to him, and his
thought had had little to do with the mission she had come upon. Swift
decision had dealt with that. No, it was the girl herself who claimed
him.

He understood the sheer design of the Skandinavia in sending so perfect
a creature to him. That was easy. It only helped to prove their
desire--their urgent desire--to free themselves from the threat of his
competition. But he wondered at their selection.

Somehow he felt that the Skandinavia should have chosen, if their choice
fell upon a woman, a clever, brilliant, unscrupulous creature who knew
her every asset, and was capable of playing every one of them in the
game of commercial warfare. Instead of that they had sent Nancy, with
her sweetly beautiful face and perfect hair, to be their unthinking
tool. He realised her simplicity, her splendid loyalty to those she
served. He knew she was without design or subterfuge. She was just the
most beautiful, desirable creature he had ever beheld in his life.

He told himself it was all wrong. This wonderful child should never have
been sent on such a journey, on such an errand. She was fit only for the
shelter of a happy home life, protection from every roughness, every
taint with which the sordid world of commerce could besmirch her. His
chivalry was stirred to its depths, and the wrong of it all, as he saw
it, only the more surely deepened his purpose for h