Three days since Captain Utterbourne had lifted his hat to them on the doorstep of their new abode—lifted it almost formally, his lips just flickering to a smile of such supreme opaqueness that no one could possibly divine anything that happened to be behind it in the way of emotion. Then the Star of Troy had slipped off, quietly and swiftly.  
They had gone down and stood together on the ruined dock and watched her through the binoculars Captain Utterbourne had given them for a wedding gift; watched till she sank beneath the rim of a cloudless horizon; watched even the thin plume of smoke till the blue of the blazing tropical sky had sucked it into eternal limbo. It was then, really for the first time, they had become aware of the almost unearthly stillness....
 
But how fair it was—what breathless ............