She's grateful enough to you at heart, depend upon it she is, only she did not like to say so.

Dear me, how it blows; we shall have a night of it, a regular gale, I declare.

So you are going away to-morrow morning.

Well, the best of friends must part.

I hope that you will often come and see us.
Good-bye." Once more a sense of the irony of the position overcame Geoffrey, and he smiled grimly as he lit his candle and went to bed.