The Ariani was to sail that evening, her destination being Miami and the West Coast where Portlaw desired to do some tarpon fishing and Wayward had railroad interests. Malcourt, always in a receptive attitude, was quite ready to go anywhere when invited. Otherwise he preferred a remunerative attention to business.Hamil, however, though with the gay company aboard, was not of them; he had business at Palm Beach; his luggage had already been sent ashore; and now, prepared to follow, he stood a little apart from the others on the moonlit deck, making his adieux to the master of the Ariani."It's been perfectly stunning-this cruise," he said. "It was kind of you, Wayward; I don't know how to tell you how kind-but your boat's a corker and you are another-""Do you like this sort of thing?" asked Wayward grimly."Like it? It's only a part of your ordinary lives-yours and Portlaw's; so you are not quite fitted to understand. But, Wayward, I've been in heavy harness. You have been doing this sort of heavenly thing-how many years?""Too many. Tell me; you've really made good this last year, haven't you, Garry?"Hamil nodded. "I had to."He laid his hand on the older man's arm. "Why do you know," he said, "when they gave me that first commission for the little park at Hampton Hills-thanks to you-I hadn't five dollars in all the world."
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