"
David's cheek slowly turned red. He remembered what Braddock had said
to him.
"You are all very good to me," he murmured, for want of anything
better to say. His sensitive heart was thumping quickly, driven by
humiliation. She looked steadily into his eyes without speaking and
then walked away from the group, directing him to follow. They sat
down upon the tumbler's pad, just where they had been seated the night
before.
"My husband is hard sometimes, David," she said gently. "It will last
for a few days, that is all. We must not aggravate him now. In a
little while he will forget that he has--has said certain things.
Then, I hope that you and Christine will be good friends. I--I want
her to know you well, David. I want her to be with--with some one who
is different from the people here. You understand, don't you?"
"Yes," said David, suddenly enlightened. "I know what you mean. I
shall be very happy, too."
"Ah, how gently you did that," she cried, a wistful gleam in her dark
eyes. "How the blood tells its story! Yes, David, I want her to know
you; I want her to--to be with her own kind.
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