It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. “My dear,” she said, when she could get her breath, “you must come home at once. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. “No doubt about that,” Meddoes continued. They had cried a little, both. ‘I can’t help but be sure,’ he returned shortly. "I have hurt you because I would not trust you. .
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