One night she apparently fell asleep. Their laughter, together with the agonized yowling of the dog, drew a circle of wondering natives; and at length McClintock himself came over to see what the racket was about. “I remember it very well indeed. "An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. The ragged edge.
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