"Taking Shipley's offer and
these scandals into consideration, I don't like the look of this,
Clementina."
"I do," said the girl simply.
Harcourt gazed at her keenly and with the shadow of distrust still upon
him. It seemed to be quite impossible, even with what he knew of her
calmly cold nature, that she should be equally uninfluenced by Grant or
Shipley. Had she some steadfast, lofty ideal, or perhaps some already
absorbing passion of which he knew nothing? She was not a girl to betray
it--they would only know it when it was too late. Could it be possible
that there was still something between her and 'Lige that he knew
nothing of? The thought struck a chill to his breast. She was walking
towards the door, when he recalled himself with an effort.
"If you think it advisable to see Fletcher, you might run down to San
Jose for a day or two with your mother, and call on the Ramirez.
They may know him or somebody who does. Of course if YOU meet him and
casually invite him it would be different."
"It's a good idea," she said quickly. "I'll do it, and speak to mother
now."
He was struck by the change in her face and voice; they had both
nervously lightened, as oddly and distinctly as they had before seemed
to grow suddenly harsh and aggressive. She passed out of the room with
girlish brusqueness, leaving him alone with a new and vague fear in his
consciousness.
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