"Farewell!" cried Jack, embracing them. His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows. Lucy stared out to the busy streets beyond. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. But you need not fear,’ she added, shaking him off. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me.
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