” “You have no right at all,” she answered coldly. “Sure. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. ‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. It was hard to part with romance, but she had never thirsted so keenly to go on with her University work in her life as she did that day. I am a physician first, which gives the man in me a secondary part. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Sebastian drew over to her and lifted her chin from her chest. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. His arm fell to his side.
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