” “What ball?” The question was rhetorical. At length, the body was brought towards him. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. ‘Don’t involve me in your lover’s tiff. You are afraid of the warmth in your blood. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. He was engaged in detesting Manning and himself in almost equal measure. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. This year—I’ve got it badly. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. Anna, I listened to all that he had to say, and I called to him to let me get out. You do not know him.
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