What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. " "Done!" cried the old sailor. 276 He opened the box. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. It was Celeste’s idea. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. She refused coffee, though she knew that anyhow she was doomed to a sleepless night.
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