SON OF THE WIND
pear to a voyager in a balloon. "Has Ferrier been blowing me up behind my back? Has Mrs. Rader heard yet, I mean the facts about us, eh?"
"Yes," Rader answered, "she—"
The outer door closed and a precipitous step came along the hall.
"Oh Lord!" he said helplessly.
Carron shook. "Brace up. It's all right. It's only Blanche."
"It's Mrs. Rader," the scholar said. "She—"
He had started again to speak of his wife, but if he wanted to give Carron a hint of any sort he was too late with it. The young man would have wagered it was the girl's step he had heard; but the door opened upon the older woman. Her hair was blown, and a shawl was held over her shoulders. He scarcely knew her coming in with this determined, headlong manner. She saw him and stopped irresolute, biting her lips. The draft carried the door to behind her with a clap that sounded like a gun of defiance.
Here was no time for smiling, however much he might feel like it. The feminine fates were against him—and he must pull a sober face. He went quickly, propitiatorily forward. "Mr. Rader tells me you know about it."
She did not speak, but holding the shawl around
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