There was something almost vindictive in the feeling that came to him.
It was too vague to be analysed, but it filled him with a desire to
fight, gave him a sense of determination of which he had never before
been conscious. It toughened him, and made the old, easy-going Kirk
Winfield seem a stranger at whom he could look with detachment and a
certain contempt.
As he walked back along the deck the battlements of the city met his
gaze once more. But now they seemed less formidable.
In the leisurely fashion of the home-coming ship the _Santa
Barbara_ slid into her dock. The gangplank was thrust out. Kirk
walked ashore.
For a moment he thought that Ruth had not come to meet him. Then his
heart leaped madly. He had seen her.
* * * * *
There are worse spots in the world than the sheds of the New York
customs, but few more desolate; yet to Kirk just then the shadowy
vastness seemed a sunlit garden. A flame of happiness blazed up in his
mind, blotting out in an instant the forebodings which had lurked there
like evil creatures in a dark vault. The future, with its explanations
and plans, could take care of itself. Ruth was a thing of the present.
He put his arms round her and held her. The friendly drummer, who
chanced to be near, observed them with interest and a good deal of
pleasure.
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