She pulled her hand away quickly. That she was provoked by his interference was obvious. She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. Mr. Better get back now! You be careful. Anna was sitting before the fire a little distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing.
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