Stanley took the letter and stood with it in his hand thoughtfully for a time. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. And the woollen-draper departed. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it. She spotted her opportunity. He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. Yon must be mine to-night. Within forty-eight hours the girl would be on her way east and the boy see-sawing the South China Sea, for ever moving at absolute angles. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. " "Be silent, and conceal yourself.
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