’. He had come to Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening dress. Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip never materialized. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. I tried to jump, but he increased the speed. In twenty minutes we meet in the hall, remember. He stamped his last letter as Annabel entered. And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded.
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