"Nothing will keep me awake to-night."

The tone caused her to look at him more closely as she took the cup he
handed back to her. She noticed that his eyes glittered and that in
either cheek, above the line of the beard, there was a hectic spot. She
adjusted the spirit-lamp, and, lifting the cover of the kettle, looked
inside.

"Has anything happened?" she asked, doing her best to give the question
a casual intonation.

"A great deal has happened." He allowed that statement to sink in
before continuing. "I think"--he paused long--"I think I'm going to get
the money."

She held herself well in hand, though at the words the old familiar
landmarks of her former world seemed to rise again, rosily, mistily,
like the walls of Troy to the sound of Apollo's lute. She looked into
the kettle again to see if the water was yet boiling, taking longer than
necessary to peer into the quiet depth.

"I'm so glad." She spoke as if he had told her he had shaken hands with
an old friend. "I thought you would."

"Ah, but you never thought of anything like this."

"I knew it would be something pretty good. With your name, there wasn't
the slightest doubt of it."