"M'voilà, Monsieur le Docteur! Here I am," said Rupert, not without dignity, and with great goodwill.
"Well, get out," said Westenra softly, "and take your bride to be with you. That's all that's required of you for the time being."
He cared not how they went nor where, so long as he was alone once more with this only woman of his life. He took her hand in his and drew her close until her cheek lay against his as on a long-ago night, driving up Broadway to 68th Street. Before them, through the trees, glimmered a silver expanse of water, with grim warships lying at rest and little red-sailed fishing boats rocking softly.
"Heart of my heart--does n't this seem to you a fair sea on which to launch a new ship of dreams."
"No. Not a new ship, Joe. The same old ship. I have never been out of it for an hour, or a moment."
THE END
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By Cynthia Stockley
POPPY
The Story of a South African Girl