. She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist. She blushed prettily, and in a moment regained command of her tongue. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. " "Aye!" was McClintock's inaudible affirmative. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. “To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?” “I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw.
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