“I had a dream in the night,” she said. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. His face darkened. Sheppard. It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. “And that only brings me up to about sixty-five! “A glittering wilderness of time That to the sunset reaches No keel as yet its waves has ploughed Or gritted on its beaches. I shall count it a privilege. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. Gives you a right to hang on to the old man until he busts—practically. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked.
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