"Little f or big F, Neilsen?"

"Little f, sir," said Neilsen.

"There, doubter!" I said to Verna.

She had her hand on my arm and was smiling down at the men from
the little stone pier on which we stood.

"Fyles," she said, "you must land and dine with us to-night, not
only because I want you to, but because you ought to meet my
father."

"About when?" I asked.

"Seven-thirty," she answered; and then, in a lower voice, so that
the men below might not hear: "Our fairy tale is coming true,
isn't it, Fyles?"

"Right to the end," I said.

"There were two ends," she said. "Mine and yours."

"Oh, mine," I said; "that is, if you'll live up to your part of
it!"

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Throw over the Beast and be my Princess," I said, trying to talk