She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. Charley Pevenill was our host. An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. " "I know you'll contradict it, Sir," said the widow, looking at Wood as if she dreaded to have her fears confirmed,—"I know you will. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips.
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