It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. Having secured this,—for he was almost famished,—he said that he had lost a hammer and wished to purchase one. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. She—She can snub him. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend. ” “Nothing that one wants. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief.
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