A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. "So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of bitterness?" "What can I do?" "You can go to her and take her in your arms. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. Forgive me?” She pleaded. "Enough," said the widow, gratefully.
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