"I tell you I'm as young as I ever was," this from Mr. Langton, in tones of mulish obstinacy.
"And I tell you you're breaking down of old age, and you'll not stir from this for two weeks; if you do you'll risk your life. You understand me, young lady?" turning to Reine.
"Yes, sir, and your directions shall be implicitly carried out."
"But, Reine," he objects when the doctor has gone, "you know you said it would be impossible we should stay beyond to-morrow."
"We must manage some way—you must not be hurt by our haste. We will go as soon as we can, that is all," she answers, patting his cheek, then turning gently from him to the window.
The dark, blue waves go splashing softly past under the gaze of her dark, sad eyes. A thought comes into her mind:
"But most of all would I flee from the cruel madness of love.
The honey of poison flowers, and all the measureless ill."
[CHAPTER XIV.]
"Another day. Never was mortal so glad to behold daylight," ejaculated Vane Charteris, yawning with all the weariness of one who has seen the long hours of a sleepless night glide past.