Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. These passers-by who touch us but lightly and are gone, leaving the eternal imprint! So long as she lived, Ruth would always remember that embrace. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. She had viewed them askance, and without exchanging ideas with any one else in the world about them. ” Her eyes were lit with humour. He was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined all the proffered courtesies.
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