” She smiled at him broadly and kissed his cheek. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. He filled his pipe slowly. “It seems so unfair,” she said, “to take all you offer me and give so little in return. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. Do you accept it?" "Dear Thames!" "Forgive this ill-timed avowal of my love. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death.
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