"N—o. As far as I can remember," says Geoffrey, thoughtfully, pulling his moustache, "you were so overcome with delight at the unexpected honor I did you, that——",
The other smiles faintly. He is evidently glad because of Geoffrey's words, but speech is now very nearly impossible to him. His attempt to rise, to point out the imaginary moonlight to Mona, has greatly wasted his small remaining stock of life, and now but a thin partition, frail and broken, lies between him and that inexorable Rubicon we all must one day pass.,
At home—in Sydney, I mean—the life was different. It was free, unfettered, and in a degree lawless. It suited me better.".
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