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Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. ” Anna was thoughtful. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. ” Sir John seated himself deliberately. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. “I suppose you know I like you tremendously?” he pursued. "And now," cried Jack, leaping up, "for an achievement, compared with which all I have yet done shall be as nothing!" CHAPTER XVII.

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