How she doted on their only child! He recalled one night, shortly before his wife died, when the little Iris was brought into her room to kiss her and lisp her infantile prayers.

She had devised a formula of her own--"God bless father! God bless mother! God bless me, their little girl!" And what was it she cried to him from the beach?
"Your own little girl given back to you!" Given back to him! For what--to marry that black-hearted scoundrel whose pastime was the degradation of women and the defaming of honest men?
That settled it.

Instantly the cloud was lifted from his soul.

A great peace came upon him.

The ruin of his business he might not be able to avert, but he would save from, the wreck that which he prized more than all else--his daughter's love.
The engines dropped to half speed--they were entering the harbor of Singapore.