All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. Anna stood looking down upon her sister with grave perturbed face. Ah! she looks this way, and puts her finger to her lips. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. "Suppose he does.
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