The old man beside her had lost courage to pick up his old habit; at the last moment his friend must go for the letter which never came.

She cast about to say something; her last words had been of hope deferred--it would not do to take up her speech there.

.

.
The Admiral seemed to meet her eyes with an effort.

He put out a hand.
"It is not good, Mademoiselle, that a man should pity himself.