" "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. ” She threw away the end of her cigarette. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. “It’s very late. She was trembling a little. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. She would have to move on to a more lawless country soon, Mexico, Columbia, then cross the sea where she could eventually return to the chaos of Eastern Europe and the Russias. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. ” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances.
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