His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. It was an impulse. Melusine came close again, and reached up a finger tentatively to the face depicted there. Only I wish—I wish to-day I was a thousand times, ten thousand times more beautiful. Any one very badly moved choked down a few mouthfuls; the symptom of supreme distress was not to be able to touch a bit. “But if you had?” she said. " "Pshaw!" said Wild.
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