The young man looked at her. CHAPTER XI. But I was portentous, I can assure you. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. ’ ‘Gad, but she’s a beauty,’ gasped Hilary, and slammed his sword back in its scabbard. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off.
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