” “It was Cheveney!” he said slowly. You want to think for a time, to be free for a time. ’ It was immediately evident that Lucilla Froxfield was not as silly as Melusine had thought, for the face of her captain immediately changed and he took her hands, a look on his face that caused Melusine an instant pang. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. ’ Lucilla eyed him with one of those particularly feminine looks it was difficult for a mere male to interpret. Her courage and her presence of mind had alike deserted her. At last his voice came to release her tension. . He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot.
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