His eyes were red. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. \" She cooed into his ear, stroking his chest hair. Winifred's reception was kind, but more distant, and after the slight ceremonial she resumed her occupation. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed.
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