“Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. “He is a sad blunderer. ” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. And, decently as he could, McClintock was giving the man the boot. CHAPTER XXII. “Oh! I wish,” she said, “that people thought alike about these things. Not for me. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. He looked down and met them.
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