He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. He was all alone, too. “Often,” he repeated, a little heavily. A fortnight passed, then a month. \"Some of them don't smell so good. I want you to be my wife. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. “We have come too close together for me to believe it.
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