"No--no!" she stammered.
Doctor Ruysdael turned to Hoskins. "Go back and tell Waya I've found
her."
Libby felt that the doctor only wanted to get rid of his companion, and
became awed again.
"Has anybody been bothering you?"
"No."
"Have the diggers frightened you?"
"No"--with a gesture of contempt.
"Have you and Waya quarreled?"
"Nary"--with a faint, tremulous smile.
He still stared at her, and then dropped his blue eyes musingly. "Are
you lonely here? Would you rather go to San Jose?"
Like a flash the figures of the two smartly dressed women started up
before her again, with every detail of their fresh and wholesome finery
as cruelly distinct as had been her own shapeless ugliness in the mirror
of the spring. "No! NO!" she broke out vehemently and passionately.
"Never!"
He smiled gently. "Look here! I'll send you up some books. You
read--don't you?" She nodded quickly. "Some magazines and papers. Odd I
never thought of it before," he added half musingly.
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