It had grown intolerable to her restlessness.

The mere thought of it oppressed her.

Flora de Barral was looking frankly at her chance confidant, "And I came this way," she went on.

"I appointed the time myself yesterday, but Captain Anthony would not have minded.

He told me he was going to look over some business papers till I came." The idea of the son of the poet, the rescuer of the most forlorn damsel of modern times, the man of violence, gentleness and generosity, sitting up to his neck in ship's accounts amused me.