I feel like a fraudulent trustee. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. “Where is she?” He would yell even louder until she was sure that people in faraway fishing boats could probably hear him. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover. Two of these had been her particular intimates at the High School, and had done much to send her mind exploring beyond the limits of the available literature at home. Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. Mr.
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