He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. "Intruding!" echoed Mrs. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser. At last the panel swung back into the library.
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