The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock. "Did I hear you …" began McClintock. He was dressed with the utmost care, and he set his feet upon the broad walk as though the action were in some way a condescension. It was at lunch when McClintock announced that in the mailpouch he had found a letter addressed to Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. “I saw—they knocked off your fetters yesterday. I said I’d do anything. He groaned, much to Melusine’s relief.
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