Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. “Come this way,” he said. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. ’ ‘You see? Not to be trusted,’ Hilary uttered disgustedly. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked.
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