He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. In the middle there was a gate. Enchanted. Dolls. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart. "Ah!" he exclaimed, in a tone of anguish. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her.
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