He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. Why did the beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see McClintock; and the sooner he came the better. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. ‘Precisely. She had agonized over it for weeks. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. ’ ‘I have no game. . You are a detective?" "Yes. I'm a slave to my word.
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