That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. Mr. " And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh. What! mum still. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently.
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