His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Even the love of a mother does not sway him. But about his unknown rival he was acutely curious. Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. . ” He said happily. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight.
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