” “They know you better,” he declared. "Anything else?" "Your waistcoat. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man. She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. Pity you aren’t under my command. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. . But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again.
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