" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ” His voice rose and fell amidst the music and the singing of Tristan and King Mark, like a voice heard in a badly connected telephone. "This is not the way to obtain it," said Winifred, endeavouring to reach the door. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. " "Make it positive," was the brisk reply. It was she! The Dawn Pearl! He vaulted the veranda rail, careless now whether or not he was heard, and ran down to the beach. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. “I——” The door opened, and the doctor entered softly.
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