Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. "Ah!" she screamed, seeing the uplifted weapon in Sheppard's hand, "don't hurt Thames—don't, dear Jack! If you want to kill somebody, kill me, not him. They are not your children, they never were. ” Ann Veronica meditated over that phrase. " "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. She surveyed accommodation that seemed at first merely austere, and became more and more manifestly inadequate as the moments fled by.
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