"No," replied Jack, peremptorily. " Hastening to the Six Bells, Jack ordered some refreshment, and engaged a private room, where he remained till the afternoon absorbed in grief. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. “You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. The lines about his mouth gradually softened. “The very question, my dear sister,” she said, “tells me that I have succeeded. “Show me around you house, John. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. I was his wife.
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