Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. " "You might trust me," said Rachel, in an offended tone; "but never mind. ” He recovered himself. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered. Naturally it all came out then. Now drop it. But she did not talk readily, and in order to say something she plunged a little, and felt she plunged.
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