“I never give up,” growled Jim. “But there’s my—my sister to be considered. ’Tain’t a kind thing to yank a woman over the trail in winter.”
Devinne agreed with a nod of his head. Conlan puzzled him a good deal. It was amazing that he should be the brother of that beautiful blonde girl, who spoke in cultured tones and was as different from him as chalk is from cheese. There lurked the suspicions that their relationship was other than brother and sister, but being a cleanminded man he strove to banish the thought.
In the meantime Natalie was showing Angela the sleeping-room reserved for her, and talking at a tremendous rate about “La Belle France” and all the things she had sacrificed—among these latter she omitted to include her late husband. Doubtless she no longer regarded him as a sacrifice!
It was later in the evening that Jim faced the music. He carried Angela’s few belongings up to her room, and was bidding her “good-night” when she turned on him with flashing eyes.
“How dare you tell lies?”
“Eh?”
“How dare you tell that woman I was your sister?”
“I didn’t. I told Devinne.”