She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. Looking at this girl, a sense of failure swept over him. But never mind that," said McClintock grinning as he drew the dish of bread-fruit toward him. The eminent painter had handsome, expressive features, an aquiline nose, and a good deal of dignity in his manner. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood.
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