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Updated: May 18, 2025
It was not till the moon-pale fingers of dawn came creeping in through the chinks betwixt blind and window that Nan lay back on her pillows knowing that for good or ill she had taken her decision.
Mellow voices of bell metal swelled and died on the midnight air while, lounging against the motor car with Liane at his side registering more impatience than he thought the occasion called for Lanyard listened, stared, wondered, the breath of the sea sweet in his nostrils, its flavour in his throat, his vision lost in the tangled web of masts and cordage and funnels that stencilled the moon-pale sky: the witching glamour of salt water binding all his senses with its time-old spell.
"The girl will come down presently, as usual, to fetch him his water for the night, you can let her know that you are here and want to speak to him." Shortly afterwards the door opened and, with a lighted taper in one hand and a ewer in the other, the moon-pale little maid entered the room. She came very quietly, as if afraid of making the slightest noise.
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