"A sail?" said McClintock. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. "Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog.
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