The stranger with a bow returned to his table. Very central in Miss Miniver’s universe were the Goopes. ' So I go to Patagonia. ” “It’s the perpetual trouble,” he said, “of parent and child. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. ” “So far,” she continued, eyeing hungrily the last morsel of roll which lay upon her plate, “my only chance of occupation has lain with a photographer who engaged me on the spot and insulted me in half an hour. I throw up work—everything! I just teach in one school, one good school, three days a week. “What a hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?” “An engagement?” she queried. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. CHAPTER III. .
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