The priceless things were gathered, the belongings packed. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning. ‘I should never have told you. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. Burn your palette and your easel. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. Several prisoners were taken, but the ring-leaders escaped. ‘Say it.
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