" "We shall have a durty night on it, to a sartinty, landlord," observed an old oneeyed sailor, who sat smoking his pipe by the fire-side. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. “Is that all you have to say?” Michelle challenged her. ’ The smile vanished. It was decrepit and too large. He would get very cross one evening and no one would dare to remind him of it. You’re of age— you’re of age. "I have him!" cried a voice in triumph. ’ ‘But where then is Gosse?’ demanded Melusine. “I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. ” She paused again. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough.
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