He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. "I dare not, Rowland," she answered. She may have any number of wasting diseases, but they cannot survive in our bodies. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. Now if you are ready to go with me, I too am ready. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself.
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