A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. Spurlock slept on. ” “Of how beautiful my children would be?” He finished her sentence. ” “Some little tiff?” “No; but I don’t think I shall see them. Wood scarcely knew where he was. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. Do you think that I shall ever make an actress, my friend?” “I doubt it,” he answered bluntly. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. “I should like you to come here,” she said. But go thither at once, I beseech you, before he has time to remove them. ” His eyes were burning.
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