He waited the pleasure of Monsieur. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. "But, if I should not return, take this purse to Edgeworth Bess. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. Why, there was drama in the very dress she wore! There was drama in the unusual beauty of her, hidden away all these years on a forgotten isle! "You've been lonely, too. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily.
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