But now they made the girl's heart beat wildly.
Suppose it were true! Suppose Ida May should really remember who
Sheila was? It was not impossible that the girl from the lace
counter of Hoskin & Marl's knew of Sheila's disgrace.
Sleep was not within her reach. The long hours of the night dragged
past. Dimly dawn crept along the dark line of the horizon, circling
all her world as far as Sheila could see it from her bed. But it was
still dark below her north window when she caught the sound of a
familiar step, the crunch of gravel under Tunis' boot.
She lay shaking for a moment, holding her breath. She heard the tiny
pebbles rattle upon the window sill. For the first time she had not
been downstairs to greet Tunis on his way to the port. Could she let
him go now without a word?
But she must! She must be firm.
Nevertheless, she slipped softly out of bed. The pebbles rattled
again. She caught up a dark veil from her bureau and wrapped it
about her face. She crept to the north window. The veil would mask
her face so that he could not distinguish it in the shadow.
But she could look down upon him. She saw him standing there so
firmly--so determinedly. His was no nature to give over easily
anything he had set his heart on.
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