" "Perhaps not," replied Jack, carelessly. " He laughed and pushed back his chair. We don’t want no trouble, do we?’ At sight of him, everything went out of Melusine’s head but the thought of Jack Kimble. And I find I can't tell one stay from another!" McClintock laughed. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly.
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