‘That would have grieved Jarvis. Mr. Thames returned no answer. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. These things did not harmonize with his conception of the forthcoming (if unavoidable) interview. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. ” She watched his face as he traced his way through these speculative thickets. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. “Glaciers?” she said.
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