He strolled to the window, and looked out at the waters of the black river which rushed whirling past the rear of the clubhouse. It occurred to him that Armstrong watched him anxiously. But Armstrong did not speak. "I 'll go--thanks!" said Avery, coming back, with his hands in his pockets. "I 'll get word to the office; they can manage without me, somehow--that is, if you 'll promise to get me back in a week?" "I 'll set you ashore at the back yard of this club six days from to-morrow," answered Romer. "The Dream 's a dandy," added the yachtsman, swelling a little. "She can do it." Avery replied absently, and hurriedly started for home. In fact, he ran most of the way (Dr. Armstrong could not keep up with him), for he was shocked to find that it was now one o'clock. "Poor Jean!" he thought; "I stayed too long." Then he remembered for the first time that he had got to tell Jean that he was going. It occurred to him for a moment that he would rather give up going with Romer than tell Jean. But it was now too late to do that. "You see," he said, stopping for Armstrong to overtake him, "I 've _got_ to go, now." But Armstrong did not reply; he turned in at his own house with a manner which his friend felt to be superfluous. Avery experienced a certain resentment against the dentist. He was relieved to be alone, and walked more slowly. When he came into his own hall, the house was perfectly still. He took off his shoes, and tiptoed upstairs, pausing at the door of his wife's room. She was sleeping so soundly that she did not hear him--an unusual circumstance, for Jean, though a good sleeper, as we said, was a light one. The husband was conscious that he had fallen on better chance than he deserved. He had expected to find her awake, and more or less nervous over his belated return.