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268 muring spaces to where the steady glimmer of Silver Shoal made a tiny nimbus in the night.

"It will watch us all the time," he whispered, "While—we're—"

"While we're asleep," said Joan; "which you are now."

She tucked the rug around him.

"Rouse me up for—my watch,—Ben—" he said drowsily.

"Ay, ay!" she smiled, bending to kiss him. “Good-night, dear person."

But he was asleep.