She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. " "Not now—not now!" she returned, with a shudder. She fell into another slumber, one which was more like a blackout. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. ’ At this, the fellow Valade burst into unwise speech.
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