"For all of us," I said, because we needed it.
Eventually Mr. Scarlett came back and asked to see the bracelet,
handling it tenderly. He was much too disturbed to talk coherently, or
to thank Nicholson or either of us. It was pitiful to watch him. He
had not found his "bearings"; did not realize all that it meant to him,
and kept on rolling up his sleeve to look at his bare arm as if he did
not believe his own eyes.
He gave way again, buried his face in his lean hands, lying half over
the table, which shook with his sobs. It was very distressing to watch.
"Can't we hoist that red flag, sir?" he asked presently, lifting a
haggard face.