“I have had a trying evening and I need rest. The Iron Bar. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. ” He said happily. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. She caught at the idea. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. “Now isn’t this nice!” that lady exclaimed. He even hugged her a few times, something he had never done. He is a knight.
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