"Phil--Phil!" Kirk was saying then. "Oh, aren't you glad to see me at
_all_? It's me--oh, _Phil_!"
His eager hands sought her face, to be sure it was she, so strange and
quiet.
"Just a minute, lamb," she heard Ken say, with a hand on Kirk's
shoulder. "Phil doesn't feel quite right."
Then warm, delicious life rushed over her, and she could move again and
fling her trembling arms around Kirk. She and Ken and the Maestro all
managed to embrace Kirk at once, so that they embraced each other, too.
And Ken was not ashamed of his tears, nor was the Maestro.
The ex-mate of the _Celestine_ stood discreetly on the terrace,
whistling to himself. But he was not whistling the song about his hat.
No, it was a little plaintive air, dimly familiar, Ken thought. Where
had he heard it before? And why was the Maestro straightening with a
stricken face, from Kirk?
[Illustration: "Phil--Phil!" Kirk was saying then.]
CHAPTER XV
MARTIN!
"Roses in the moonlight,
To-night all thine."
That was the tune, to be sure! The Maestro was on his feet. He walked
slowly to the open French window.
"What--what right have you to come here whistling--_that_?" he breathed.
He wheeled suddenly on Kirk. "Did you sing it to him?" he demanded. "Is
this--_what_ is this?"
"I didn't," said Kirk, quickly; "Oh, I didn't."
The air seemed tense, burdened with something that hovered there in the
stillness of the waiting garden.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133