Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. There were two of them. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. ’ Kimble chewed his lip, but his hostility was visibly lessening. Somehow to-night—I don’t know.
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