Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. “There is no time for that. " Sailors, he thought; and most of them the dregs of the South Seas, casting their evil glances at this exquisite creature and trying to smirch with innuendo the crystal clearness of her mind. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. \" She waved. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him.
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