She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. I should have known at a glance if it was. This person, whose age might be about forty, was attired in a brown double-breasted frieze coat, with very wide skirts, and a very narrow collar; a light drugget waistcoat, with pockets reaching to the knees; black plush breeches; grey worsted hose; and shoes with round toes, wooden heels, and high quarters, fastened by small silver buckles. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. 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. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. The Dawn Pearl! To be with her constantly, with no diversions to serve as barricades! Damn McClintock for putting this thought in his head—that Ruth loved him! He flung himself upon the beach, face downward, his outflung hands digging into the sand: which was oddly like his problem—he could not grip it. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up.
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