The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University

know who this S. Marlowe is, but I do know one thing;
in this hand I hold the instrument that’s going to give it
him in the neck, proper! Right in the neck, or my name
isn’t Montagu Webster!”
“Well!” said Mrs. Withers, comfortably, pausing for
a moment from her labours. “Think of that!”
“<strong>The</strong> way I look at it,” said Webster, “is that there’s
been some sort of understanding between our Miss B.
and this S. Marlowe, and she’s thought better of it and
decided to stick to the man of her parent’s choice. She’s
chosen wealth and made up her mind to hand the
humble suitor the mitten. <strong>The</strong>re was a rather similar
situation in ‘Cupid or Mammon,’ that Nosegay Novelette
I was reading in the train coming down here, only
that ended different. For my part I’d be better pleased
if our Miss B. would let the cash go, and obey the dictates
of her own heart; but these modern girls are all
alike! All out for the stuff, they are! Oh, well, it’s none
of my affair,” said Webster, stifling a not unmanly sigh.
For beneath that immaculate shirt-front there beat a
warm heart. Montagu Webster was a sentimentalist.
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Girl</strong> on the Boat
158
CHAPTER XVI
Webster, Friend in Need
AT HALF-PAST TWO that afternoon, full of optimism and
cold beef, gaily unconscious that Webster with measured
strides was approaching ever nearer with the note
that was to give it him in the neck, proper, Samuel
Marlowe dangled his feet from the top bar of the gate
at the end of the lane, and smoked contentedly as he
waited for Billie to make her appearance. He had had
an excellent lunch; his pipe was drawing well, and all
Nature smiled. <strong>The</strong> breeze from the sea across the
meadows tickled pleasantly the back of his head, and
sang a soothing song in the long grass and ragged-robins
at his feet. He was looking forward with a roseate
glow of anticipation to the moment when the white
flutter of Billie’s dress would break the green of the