’ For the space of half a minute, Gerald continued to scowl in silent frustration. Now I do. It was wonderful. Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from a conviction of its utter hopelessness; but, though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. " "I should be unafraid to go anywhere with you. Then he got up and left her. . ” His voice sounded muffled and heavy, as if he had gone to bed.
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