The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. Well, it had to happen somewhen. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. The heroism of two beach combers had saved all on board and their own manhood as well. “The fellow seems to know your name, Miss Pellissier, and that you have lived in Paris. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. Spurlock—for that's his real name—were married at high noon.
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