“I should kill you. "You are angry?" "Very. Wood cut him short by stating his intention of crossing the river as soon as possible in order to avoid the storm. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. I think I know where I am puzzling you now——” “Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. ’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls. Any financial return was inconsiderable against the promise of this psychological treat. .
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