* * * * * *

"Night, daddy."

"Good night, Kittibudget."

Crawford smiled after the blithe, buoyant figure as it swung
confidently down the deck.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," mused Killigrew, looking across
the rail at the careening stars.

"What about?"

"That child. I can't harness her."

"Somebody's bound to"--prophetically.

"It's got to be a whole man, or he'll wish he'd never been born. She's
had her way so long that she's spoiled."

"Not a bit of it."

"Yes, she is. I told her not to wear those sapphires that night. And,
by the way, I've been hoping they'd turn up like that ruby of yours.
How do you account for that?"

The coal of Crawford's cigar waxed and waned and the ash lengthened.

"I've no doubt that you've been mighty curious since that morning.