I am almost old enough to be your father. Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance. With the usual precautions, Austin then departed. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. A small brickbat was thrown, which struck Jonathan in the face. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. It will take at least three weeks. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her.
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