Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as the painting was turned towards him. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. “Hola Marteen!” She exclaimed cheerfully. ‘You think my father would not have married Suzanne if he had known? Me, I do not agree. Vee’s all right. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist.
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