Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. A bad sign; it signified that the heart action was in a precarious state. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Her mind went on generalizing. Probably he taught me what a joke was merely to irritate my father; for suddenly Father stopped my going to the store for things and sent our old Kanaka cook instead. "You are complimentary, Sir Rowland," returned the other, with a grim smile. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke.
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