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66 Sometimes his voice rose so clearly that she could almost make out the words. Sometimes another voice interposed, sometimes there were hoots from below, sometimes cheers; but through it all the one voice declaimed with a force and passion that Elsie felt to be real oratory. She would have given the world to hear what he was saying. She did indeed crane her head over the balcony, but after a minute drew it back, afraid lest in the moonlight someone should see and recognize her. By-and-by it ended. The street became quieter, but the noise in the hotel increased. Hallett came up and joined her in the balcony.

"Have you been listening to Mr. Blake?" she asked.

"No," he replied; "I have been orating on my own account. Why do you stay out here? It isn't fit for you, with all that noise going on in the bar."

"I will go to bed," she said listlessly. "I am tired."

"Stay a moment. Come round here; it is quieter. I told you I'd show you the ghost of your flower the next time we met. Here it is."

He opened his pocket book and showed her the stephanotis spray crushed between its leaves. "I have worn it," he said, "as one of the old knights you are so fond of might have worn his lady's token when he went to battle. It has been with me all through my battle."

"Give it to me," she said, in a strained sort of voice. He did so. Before he could guess her intention, she had crumpled it into a shapeless lump, and had thrown it into the street.

"Why did you do that?" he exclaimed, deeply hurt.

"Because it's worth nothing. It has not brought you luck. It never will bring you any good luck."

"Have you made up your mind, then, that I am to fail?" he said in a pained voice.

"Yes, I feel it, I know it. He has victory in his face. That man will succeed wherever he goes, and in whatever he chooses to do."

"In whatever he chooses to do!" Hallett repeated. "Don't say that. I cannot bear you to say it."