He turned and saw Sir Robert Menzies, and between him and French, his daughter Marjorie.
"Glad to see you, Sir Robert," he exclaimed heartily.
"That was splendid!" said his daughter, pale and shaken by what she had seen.
One keen searching look he thrust in through her eyes, scanning her soul. Bravely, frankly, she gave him back his look. Kalman drew a deep breath. It was as if he had been on a long voyage of discovery, how long he could not tell. But what he had seen brought comfort to his heart. She had not shrunk from him.
"That was fine!" cried Marjorie again, offering him her hand.
"I am afraid," he said, holding back his, "that my hand is not clean enough to shake with you."
"Give it to me," she said almost imperiously. "It is the hand of a brave man and good."
Her tone was one of warm and genuine admiration. All Kalman's practised self-control deserted him. He felt the hot blood rising in his face. With a great effort he regained command of himself and began pointing out the features of interest in the mine.
"Great changes have taken place in the last five years," she said, looking down the ravine, disfigured by all the sordid accompaniments of a coal mine.
"Yes, great changes," said Kalman.