His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. Mr. His arms were naturally big and his chest was covered with a smattering of soft hairs. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Martha had not been pleased to find her spare one borrowed for that expedition when the major had found her outside the ballroom. 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. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless.
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