'" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. ’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. If this success continued, it would be easy to assume the name of Taber. If only to say goodbye.
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