” So they talked on whilst supper was served, falling easily into the spirit of the place, and yet both of them conscious of some new thing underlying the gaiety of their tongues and manner. ‘Tell me, my boy. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. Monroe would go to work and Mrs. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. Sheppard's ward, Sir.
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