Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. " "You, Miss Enschede?"—frankly astonished that one stranger should offer succour to another. " "I can't! I can't—not now!" "Bat!—can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and forgive? She loves you. ‘Keep still, for God’s sake! Hilary will send him off all right and tight, never fear. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them.
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