the other make due response. And
then nothing was left but the coastguard.

But the Grand Duke's family were not quite done with. It had to be
recorded how many of his distinguished ancestors had suffered from
_Plica polonica_. Still, the end did come at last, and the worthy lady
thought perhaps if she could lie down now she might drop off. So Mrs.
Iggulden got her release and slept.

Dr. Conrad didn't, not a wink. The whole place was full of Sally. The
flashlight at intervals, in couplets, seemed to say "Sally" twice when
it came, and then to leave a blank for him to think about her in. The
great slow steamer far out to sea showed a green eye of jealousy or a
red one of anger because it could not come ashore where Sally was, but
had perforce to go on wherever it was navigated. The millions of black
sea-elves--did you ever discriminate them?--that the slight observer
fancies are the interstices of the moonlight on the water, were all
busy about Sally, though it was hard to follow their movements. And
every time St. Sennan said what o'clock it was, he added, "One hour
nearer to Sally to-morrow!"

Poor Prosy!

CHAPTER XXIX

OF A MARRIAGE BY SPECIAL LICENCE. ROSALIND'S COMPARISONS. OF THE THREE
BRIDESMAIDS, AND HOW THE BRIDE WAS A GOOD SAILOR

But it never occurred to Dr. Vereker that the voice of the smoking
gentleman, whose "_she_" knew a couple that had been cooked at a
registry office, was a voice quite familiar to him. The only effect
it had on his Sally-dazed mind was to make him wonder four hours after
what it was that kept putting Julius Bradshaw into his head. If a
brain-molecule could have been found not preoccupied with Sally he
might have been able to give her next day a suggestive hint about
a possibility ahead. But never a word said he to Sally; and when,
on her return from bathing the following morning, Mrs. Lobjoit, the
fisherman's wife, surprised her with the news that "the young lady"
had come and had left her luggage, but would be back in half-an-hour,
she was first taken aback, and thought it was a mistake next. But
no--no chance of that! The young lady had asked for Mrs. Algernon
Fenwick, or, in default, for Miss Sally, quite distinctly. She hadn't
said any name, but there was a gentleman with her. Mrs. Lobjoit
seemed to imply that had there been no gentleman she might have been
nameless. Padlock's omnibus they came in.

So Sally went on being taken aback where she had left off, and