Ruin, in an unusually
cordial tone, at the same time shaking hands. "You've made a capital
passage, and freighted the Chrysolite well."
Mr. Ruin was a big, fat man who spoke oilily. His clean-shaven
face was never without the remnants of a smile--a smile, though,
which was not remarkable for its sincerity. Still, it had its
value,--in the market,--for it was a commercial smile. A pair of
small gray eyes were almost hidden by the obese curves of his cheeks;
but you learned in a very short time that they kept a sharp and
shrewd lookout from behind those ramparts. The two men sat down at
opposite sides of the table, the owner guessing from the captain's
manner that there was something in the wind, and the captain
thinking his employer's exuberance of civility betokened more than
was manifest.
"Yes, I brought her a quick passage," replied Anderson; then, looking
straight at the owner, "and it's the last she'll make under me."
The remnants of a smile coalesced, ploughing up Mr. Ruin's cheeks
into greasy furrows.
"My dear Captain, we could not hear of it! We're too old friends
to part like that."
"Well, sir, I've come this morning, for private reasons, to throw
up my commission," said the captain, simultaneously throwing down
his commission before the senior partner's eyes.
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