‘That slurs the sunshine half a mile,
Live captives so uncomforted
As souls behind a smile—
God’s pity let us pray,’ she said.”
The doors were flung open, and framed in the hatchway appeared the upper part of the body, the dark hair, the defiant eyes, and the faintly-smiling mouth of the celebrated Miss Madge Yarnell.
MISS YARNELL MOUNTED THE PAIR OF STEPS FROM THE CABIN
IV
For a moment Fessenden could only stare. Then he gave a long whistle.
“This Maryland climate is—extraordinary!” he remarked to the horizon.