McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. The man was dangerous. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. And now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have a little quiet chat together. They did not spend most days together. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: 1.
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