Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. She peered into the darkness. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. If I had been your companion only, and not your master, I might very well have been content to accept you for what you seem. ’ ‘I have English a little,’ the girl offered, her voice shaking as she essayed a smile and sank into a curtsy. Ruth took hers in the sea, but was careful never to go beyond her depth because of the sharks. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. Its very calmness was frightful. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. "You are very kind," said Jack, returning the money; "but I don't require assistance. .
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