There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down. “Still, of course, it is possible. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. He dined, and then pleaded a political engagement. ’ Gerald eyed her. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. "I declare I'm all in a cold sweat. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded.
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