“There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. What’s the name of the happy man?” Gwen owned to “Fortescue. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. The thought made her exquisitely happy. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. Then she burst into a peal of laughter. " CHAPTER XVIII.
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