Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. It was at lunch when McClintock announced that in the mailpouch he had found a letter addressed to Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. This won’t do. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. His hesitation was visible, and Spurlock took advantage of this to run to Ruth. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. ‘Possibly,’ he said.
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