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. "I feel like work," he lied. ” He replied lightly and stepped towards her. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. The Leads. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in. He would have to return to Hong-Kong; and his trail would be picked up the moment he set foot on the Praya. “Kindly explain it to me. No one spoke to her. ’ ‘But, no,’ She dimpled.
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