"Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!. “I think everything’s right,” said Ann Veronica, with the roaming eye of a capable but not devoted house-mistress. But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. What right had a young woman to possess the scarring and intimate knowledge of that dreg of human society, the beachcomber? CHAPTER II Ah Cum lived at No. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold.
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