The magic of Valrosa had loosed its hold, and he was thinking of the wide ocean and buffeting waves that awaited him.

He turned on the lights of the saloon and stopped there for another cigarette and a drink, first walking to and fro, finally flinging himself on a crimson velvet settee and surrendering himself luxuriously to a repose for which he had not felt the need until that moment.
So lying, he heard the stir and tramp of feet above him, the voices of men, the lifting of the gangway; and presently the yacht began to throb as though suddenly endowed with life.

He felt the heave of the sea as she left her moorings, and the rush of water pouring past her keel as she drew away from the quay.
He stretched himself with lazy enjoyment.

It was good to come and go as he listed, good to have no ties to bind him.

He supposed he would always be a wanderer on the face of the earth, and after all wandering suited him best.