Miss Clinton was readjusting the bandage on one of his hands.

Half a dozen people were in the room, manfully defying the turmoil that had sent nearly every one else to bed in terror and distress.

Without hesitation the dancer joined the couple in the corner.

Her smile was engaging; a faint line between her eyebrows signified the concern she felt for him.
WEST WIND DRIFT Miss Clinton looked up from her work.

Her smile was politely accusative,--and brief.
"It is all my fault," began Madame Obosky, standing before them, her feet wide apart, her knees bent slightly to meet the varying slants and lurches of the vessel.