She had made a bed for herself out of wood and furs. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. At other times, it would seem that the sea itself had gone away.
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