It was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. "He seems infatuated about the lad," observed Wild. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. . He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. “I feared we might have a fog. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac.
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