"Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. "I love her already. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. I am aware that you ran away from there, but—’ ‘Certainly I ran away,’ she said, meeting his gaze with defiance in her own. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. “That beast of a fellow is certain to be hanging about. It’s artificially chance. Then he opened them again suddenly, to find Courtlaw still by his side.
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