The man turned at the exclamation, and so did several of the bystanders; but they could not make out who had uttered it. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. ‘It does not matter, Jacques. Wild, Captain?" remonstrated the other, in a deferential tone. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. ” “I am afraid,” she said, preceding him down the narrow stairs, “that I am going to be too busy to have much time for gadding about. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. "Never give in.
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