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. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. "If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master this obstacle," he muttered. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. “Take her limbs again.
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