’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. It took a deal of thought to cast a comprehensive cable, for it had to include where Spurlock was, what he was doing, and the fact that O'Higgins's letter of credit would not now carry him and Spurlock to San Francisco. Her eyebrows, pulled down by the stress of thought, now resumed their normal arches; and pleased with her discovery, she smiled. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head.
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