But his words were borne away by the driving wind. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. She walked through the office to the door, aimlessly. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. “Shari told me. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. After that consolations fled. It was only when they came into a square that daylight had a positive quality. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. I may add that the family is well known to me. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards.
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