They were bound together by a common grievance against
Basil Milbank.
"I came here, Winfield," he said, after a few moments of awkward
conversation on neutral topics, "because I understand that this man
Milbank has invited Ruth to join his yacht party."
"What yacht party?"
"This man Milbank is taking a party for a cruise shortly in his yacht."
"Who is Milbank?"
"Surely you have met him? Yes, he was at my house one night when you
and Ruth dined there shortly after your return."
"I don't remember him. However, it doesn't matter. But why does the
fact that he has asked Ruth on his yacht excite you? Are you nervous
about the sea?"
"I dislike this man Milbank very much, Winfield. I think Ruth sees too
much of him."
Kirk stiffened. His eyebrows rose the fraction of an inch.
"Oh?" he said.
It seemed to Bailey for an instant that he had been talking all his
life to people who raised their eyebrows and said "Oh!" but he
continued manfully.
"I do not think that Ruth should know him, Winfield."
"Wouldn't Ruth be rather a good judge of that?"
His tone nettled Bailey, but the man conscious of doing his duty
acquires an artificial thickness of skin, and he controlled himself.
But he had lost that feeling of friendliness, of sympathy with a
brother in misfortune which he had brought in with him.
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