“Yes,” she answered, looking away. I don’t want to tear at you with hot, rough hands. ‘But it is entirely myself,’ she exclaimed aloud. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. I had nosebleeds that day and I got halfway up the rope before I fell off. And they’ll shut the gates presently. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air.
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