Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. ‘But I have told you. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. “I love you, you know. Why did the beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see McClintock; and the sooner he came the better. And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her. For although I must confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a sinking heart. CHAPTER XXIX. I slaved over it, contacted half a dozen genealogy groups and came up with zilch.
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