"
"And will it all have to be rebuilt?"
She was glad for Jack, but it was her father who now filled her
mind.
"That I can't tell, Puss"--one of his pet names for her,
particularly when she needed comforting--"but it's safe for the
night, anyway."
"And you have worked so hard--so hard!" Her beautiful arms, bare
from the elbow, were still around his neck, her cheek pressed
close--her lovely, clinging body in strong contrast to the
straight, gray, forceful man in the wet storm-coat, who stood with
arms about her while he caressed her head with his brown fingers.
"Well, Puss, we have one consolation--it wasn't our fault--the
'fill' is holding splendidly although it has had a lively shaking
up. The worst was over in ten minutes, but it was pretty rough
while it lasted. I don't think I ever saw water come so fast. I
saw you with Breen, but I couldn't reach you then. Look out for
your dress, daughter. I'm pretty wet."
He released her arms from his neck and walked toward the fire,
stripping off his gray mackintosh as he moved.
Pages:
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410