Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back. There is something in prayer; not that there may be any noticeable result, any definite answer; but no human being can offer an honest prayer to God without gaining immeasurably in courage, in fortitude, in resignation, and that alone is worth the effort. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. “She doesn’t know. He sent me flowers. “Julian, I don’t know how to put this. Probably he will come around to-morrow and begin all over again. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech.
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