"
"This the wrong side of the continent! I should say not!" Laura exclaimed,
pointing to where in the distance the buildings of the Exposition gleamed
almost snow-white in the dazzling sunshine. "Why, I have never seen
anything so beautiful in my life."
The Professor intervened amiably. His face, too, shone with pleasure as he
gazed landwards.
"I agree with the young lady," he declared. "The blood and sinews of life
may seem to throb more ponderously in New York, but there is a big life
here on this western side, a great, wide-flung, pulsating life. There is
room here, room to breathe."
"And it is so beautiful," Lenora murmured.
Quest glanced a little way along the deck to where a pale-faced man stood
leaning upon his folded arms, gazing upon the same scene. There was no
smile on Craig's face, no light of anticipation in his eyes.
"I guess there's one of us here," Quest observed, "who is none too pleased
to see America again."
Lenora shivered a little. They were all grave.
"We must, I think, admit," the Professor said, "that Craig's deportment
during the voyage has been everything that could be desired. He has even
voluntarily carried out certain small attentions to my person which I must
confess that I had greatly missed."
"That's all right," Quest agreed. "At the same time I am afraid the moment
has come now to remind him that the end is drawing near."
Quest moved slowly down the deck towards Craig's side, and touched him on
the arm.
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