It was ended. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Maggot, whose nerves were more firmly strung, she contented herself with waving her hand affectionately to her lover, and encouraging him by her gestures. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound. "Right," said the Master, "I didn't think of her. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face.
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