He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. "But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which the remark had placed him,—"to the point. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. It grew clear to her that throughout all her wild raid for independence she had done nothing for anybody, and many people had done things for her. She held out the foil.
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