ere smiling bravely, and Pixie wiped away her own tears and
waved an answering hand. Esmeralda was holding her hand in a tender
pressure; Geoffrey on one side, and Stephen Glynn on the other were
regarding her with anxious solicitude. She smiled back with tremulous
gratitude and gripped Esmeralda's hand. Though Stanor was going, there
was still much left, so many people to care and be kind.

The great vessel quivered and moved slowly forward. Honor drew a little
white handkerchief from her bag and waved it in the air; on all sides
the action was repeated, accompanied by cries of farewell mingled with
sounds of distress. Pixie caught the sound of a sob, and craned forward
to look in the face of a girl about her own age who stood on the other
side of Stephen Glynn. She wore a small, close-fitting cap, which left
her face fully exposed as it strained towards that moving deck, and on
the small white features was printed a very extremity of anguish. She
was not crying; her glazed eyes showed no trace of tears, she seemed
unconscious of the deep sobs which issued from her lips; every nerve,
every power was concentrated in the one effort to behold to the last
possible moment one beloved face. Instinctively Pixie's eyes followed
those of the girl's, and beheld a man's face gazing back, haggard,
a-quiver, almost contorted with suffering. The story was plain to read.
They also were lovers--this man and this girl. They also were facing
years of separation, and the moment of parting held for them the
bitterness of death. Pixie O'Shaughnessy glanced from one to the other,
and then thoughtfully, deliberately along the deck to the spot where
stood her own lover, handsome Stanor, bending his head to overhear a
remark from Honor, stroking his blonde moustache. He looked dejected,
depressed; but compared with the depth of emotion on the other man's
face, such meagre expressions faded into nothingness. The moment during
which she gazed at his face held for Pixie the significance of years;
then once more her eyes returned to the girl by her side...

With every minute now the great vessel was slipping farther and farther
from the stage; the faces of her passengers would soon cease to be
distinguishable; in a few minutes they would be lost to sight, yet
Pixie's gaze remained riveted on the girl by her side, and on her own
face was printed a mute dismay which one onlooker at least was quick to
read.

"_She understands_!" Steph