Kneebone's 346 XIV. "Austin will stare," thought Jack, "when he comes here in the morning. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. "My father!" she whispered. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. It wasn’t so much women as Woman that engaged his mind.
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