And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh. “It is in your hands from now on, Shar. ” He said admiringly. Or perhaps my father once. And the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the quiet manner of the well-trained servant. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam.
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