He smiled. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. ’ Jack Kimble took a deep breath. For if the likeness between the sisters was remarkable, the likeness between this girl and the poster which he had come from studying was more remarkable still. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. " "Curse your reward!" exclaimed Kneebone, angrily. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
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