" CHAPTER IX. The watch was again consulted. Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands. We LIKED each other well enough. He died in the war. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints. . "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. She was powerless to move from her chair. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. Disappointment flickered in Gerald’s chest, and he did not hesitate to speak his mind, unable to help a reproachful note. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly.
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